The Mandylion Saga Part Four: Promises
by Jizena
Summary: Continued from Part 3. The final account of the Saga finds the SEC taking the fight to the stars. Dib and Gaz face off against the Control Brains, and Red is faced with the trials of accepting a new Empire. Tak's morale begins to sink as Zim finally faces his past in hopes of completing his soul, though his PAK may have other plans. Check profile for updates!
1. Into Battle 1: Departure

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Hi everyone! ^^

Ready, set… PART FOUR! Oh my gosh, thank you so much for your patience during my super-long hiatus! I ended up getting quite busy so it was a very good thing (my tumblr idea failed though, sorry about that; I will be posting new chapter notices there, though: the-mandylion-saga is the url). This part of the story had gone through the least revisions, so I'm glad I took the time to map out the new version. I'm really happy with it, and I hope you enjoy it, too! :3

We left off (in April, aahhh!) at the end of Part Three with some crazy disjointments: GIR has been revealed to have more knowledge of Zim's past as the Elite Commander; Red and Ira are back on the _Massive,_ but Ira's gone a little over the edge now that the Control Brains' lock has broken… and we're off to battle! Zim's ready to take on his own history, while Dib and Gaz head the mission to bring down the Control Brains…

Thank you all so, so much for reading the _Saga_ thus far! I'm really happy to have had such awesome positive feedback thus far, and I'm excited to start up this concluding part to the story. Like the others, M for some violence and language, and will go back to Friday updates in honor of the airtime of the original series.

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

**Invader Zim:**

**~The Mandylion Saga~**

**~_Part Four: Promises_~**

_Dib's Records_

No amount of mental preparation seemed to be enough, in regard to just how involved leaving Earth was going to be. My spokeswoman had to remind me right away that I was technically a diplomat, which, in turn, reminded me of another title I had. And how that could either help or hurt us in the battle to come.

While my father more or less put himself in charge of contacting Ms. L. Danvers, the reporter who had done so well thus far in the realm of informing the world around us, little by little, of the Empire and this inevitable war, I took it upon myself to finally contact the Meekrob again. This was something I had been meaning to do since Nacea died, but had no means of doing so. Until now.

Using the Spittle Runner's navigation system and Skutch's talent for adapting machinery, I made contact at long last. Tenn, also an Ambassador to the planet, accompanied me while Zim and Gaz divided the army into two Irken cargo ships that we, the SEC, had managed to commandeer during the second Invasion. Lex needed her own closure, as it were, before leaving Earth, and I had agreed to meet her, after my call, in the infirmary, where she was taking the time to promise hope to her father.

It wasn't easy, contacting the Meekrob, but as Skutch was muttering (profanely) about their race having something against computers, Tenn recalled that her transmission station was still set up in the plains outside of the capitol city. Skutch managed to break through, and after waiting and sending signals for half an hour (putting all three of us at our most impatient, let me tell you), a city guard noticed us, and called in a team to bring Tenn's old device into the city. I held my breath as the visual feed carried us through the gleaming gates, and into Chairman Xeer's chamber, in which I had been a guest three years prior.

That was where Nacea had given me the ability to know the universe. That was before I had known about my heritage, about Dad and the Organization, about my mother and the Prophecy. Just… before. And now Nacea, that wealth of knowledge and breath of fresh air, was gone.

The Meekrob are glowing, fantastic beings. But when the Chairman appeared on screen, he projected an air more dulled than I remembered. My back—the tattoo—stung, and I swear I could feel the Meekrob's presence as well as if we had been standing in the same room.

I cleared my throat, in a vain attempt to hide my nerves and fears. Not the most leader-like way to start off, but part of me could still be fifteen and uncomfortable. Or, you know, downright petrified. Tenn knew I could do better, though, and pinched my arm hard to make me prove it.

"Hello, Chairman," she began, clearing the air for me.

"My friends," the Chairman greeted us. I felt sick. I wasn't a friend. Friends don't let friends die like that. "It has been too long."

"I—I'm… sorry it's taken me so long to contact you," I said as strongly as I could. I wasn't able to manage much.

"Our Nacea did not have the opportunity to teach you our modes of communication," Xeer concluded in a straightforward manner.

"No," I confirmed, hanging my head. "No, she… she didn't, sir. I'm sorry."

"You are making this call to inform us of her passing, are you not?"

My breath caught. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Skutch, leaning against the wall, guiltily fiddling with the buckle of one of his gloves, as if he, too, as part of Tak's Invasion effort, had been personally responsible for Nacea's death. I had to respect him for feeling bad, though; he hadn't even known her.

"Sir," I said to Xeer as soon as I could connect sound to thought again, "I am so, so sorry."

"Dib," the Chairman said calmly.

"I could have—"

"No." The breathtaking Meekrob leader closed his eyes, and those in attendance around him followed suit. A room full of haunting beings with silver auras… each and every one of them with their eyes closed in reverence for the death of one of their kind. "You did all that you could, at the time of our dear representative's passing. In the time before, you taught her the ways of an unknown world. What you gave to her, and to us, is invaluable. We, the Meekrob, thank you for allowing the remainder of her living years to be well-spent, and enjoyable."

"You… you're welcome," I stammered. "I mean, I guess, but she could still be here, if I—"

"She is not here," Xeer affirmed, "but we are. We know of your struggles, Dib, and of the Prophecy to which you are tied."

"Sir?" I had no idea of what he was getting at, but without further explanation, it was a little hard to believe.

"You and Tenn, with the knowledge that you, through Nacea, provided us, have aided our race in many ways," the Chairman explained. "We understand, now, further workings of our enemy Empire, and wish to provide our services to you at your times of greatest need."

I was speechless. "You sure about that, sir?" Tenn asked for me.

"We do not make empty promises," Xeer assured us. "This is war, and we wish to remain peaceful. However, we do wish to honor Nacea by aiding in a cause she believed in."

"Nacea told me," I found the strength to say, "that the Meekrob don't fight, but they protect… and, protect knowledge, and…"

"Yes." Xeer blinked, as if to nod, and outstretched his arms. "The universe, Dib, is knowledge. Energy lends itself to knowledge, which lends itself to the universe. It is a cycle, just as life and death. In life, we are protectors; in death, we are the energy that supplies all that those who still breathe must protect."

A cycle. I drew in a deep breath and nodded… and in the back of my mind, I heard Nacea's voice explaining to me, in one of our very first training sessions, _"That is the universe."_ In my attempts to ease my godfather's pain, in his current state of unconsciousness, I had helped to open his mind to the universe as well. I could feel it. Tenn could feel it. The Meekrob held it precious, above everything else.

And if it was a cycle, I thought, as I felt the heat from the tattoo on my back, Nacea would always be alive. Because she had accepted her death as inevitable, she had become a part of the energy that continued to give meaning to her people.

My eyes itched, but I didn't let myself cry, not in front of the high Meekrob council. Instead, I nodded once, and said, focusing on the Chairman once again, "Thank you, sir. It means everything to us that you'll be providing aid. When things in the Empire are fixed, I promise to keep on assuring safety for you, your race, and your planet."

"You have grown to be a strong leader," Xeer complimented me. "You can be sure to see more of our representatives in due time."

I thanked him again, as did Tenn, and then we ended the transmission. Having the promise of Meekrob aid was one of the best things we now had going for us. And I was not going to let their offer go without thanks. I'd keep to my own promise: that well-meaning race would become true scholars of the universe, and be able to live in the peace they coveted.

Plus, talk about getting closure. I'd been beating myself up over Nacea's death for a very long time, and even killing Skoodge hadn't been able to give me the right kind of satisfaction for sealing that up, since he'd struck down Victor Haynsworth in the process.

No more of that. We had the Meekrob on our side. We had a strong army.

This was our fight.

– – –

After contacting the Meekrob, which had resulted in a fantastic surprise, I asked Tenn and Skutch to do a last sweep through the headquarters building to make sure we'd have everyone we needed in attendance for the last debriefing before takeoff. I made my way directly for the infirmary, where Lex was finishing up saying her peace to her father, still in a less than promising state of unconsciousness.

She hugged me silently, and nothing was said until a thought clutched every fiber of my being. In a low, calm tone, I explained to Lex that we had Meekrob support, and that as soon as they contacted us again, I would see if there could potentially be something arranged for one of them to take a closer look at Victor. Maybe I with my limited ability hadn't been able to heal him, but a Meekrob was sure to at least know if he could still be saved. I hadn't dared ask during the call, since Xeer had stipulated that help would come in a time of 'greatest need,' so I figured that meant the nearly clairvoyant species knew more than I had told them, and knew that now was not the right time to lend their services.

Lex understood, and took hold of my hand as we continued outside. "He'll be all right," I assured her for good measure.

"My father doesn't give in so easily," was the way she chose to agree.

"It's true, Lex," I offered.

After glancing around for a second, Lex drew in a deep breath. "When I first came here," she said, "I accused my father of dragging me."

"Lex…"

"I was out of my comfort zone," she went on, gripping my hand tightly. "I thought that this was such a waste of time. I was here as a representative of our branch, and nothing else. I had my traditions and preferences and all, and I was so content to have nothing to do with—well, with aliens." She shook her head, and smiled a little. "It's kind of odd," she admitted. "I just—I can't look back and not laugh. I've seen so many sides to the Irken spectrum, and all the way down, they're… well, they're not all that different, are they?"

"From what?" I wondered.

"Us."

"Well, sister races," I reminded her.

"I know. And it's been strange to absorb all of this, but I could not be happier that I didn't stay home." She let out a sigh, and walked a bit closer to me. "Dib, there are so many worlds out there that need and deserve saving; not just ours. And that's only a piece of what I've learned from being here. I'm proud to be a part of this fight."

I smiled, lifted by the way she'd chosen to say such words, and leaned in to kiss her, just above her ear. "I'm proud to be here, too," I told her. "And you know what, hon?"

"Hmm?"

"Weird as it is for me to say it about mine, but we're pretty lucky to have dads who believe in us."

"God, it's true," Lex let out on a needed breath.

By this point, we'd made our way outside, where everything was in preparation the way I'd been hoping it would be. Charlotte stood with her team of agents who were remaining on Earth, her clipboard and notepad in hand in case any final changes needed to be made. I had so much to thank that woman for (patience with me being high among them). And everyone in the Corporation.

A few of the international representatives were coming with us, and stood in uniform beside one of the two cargo ships that would be taking our army to the _Massive,_ and wherever else in the Empire we needed them to go; Tenn stood by one of the ships, and Skutch by another, while Gaz and Zim stood prepared at the ship that the smaller crew of us would be taking—just me, them, Lex, and my dad.

The Spittle Runner was in prime condition and ready to go. We had given it a fresh coat of paint and lacquer, and the interior had been remodeled to seat up to six passengers: two comfortably at the front control panel, and three on a bench-like seat along the right wall in the back, plus room for minor cargo like weapons or extra computers. The control panel itself was all Skutch's work—he'd brought the glowing, tablet-like dashboard to life again, complete with its touch-screen functions in English rather than Irken after some binary translation on the computer's part. Tenn had tested out the engines on a few test runs herself, and given it the all-clear inspection for flying.

Charlotte gave me a nod across the field, to let me know that we had all been gathered. Dad had just returned from his chat with the reporter, Danvers, who, I could tell from my father's pleased expression, had agreed to do what we had been hoping: she would be reporting, live, via a link wire from her office to Charlotte. Using our wristwatch communicators, we would all keep Charlotte up to speed on what we were doing and where we were; we'd be getting visuals as best we could, as well.

Lex and my father moved to join Gaz and Zim, while I called Charlotte over to us for a final word as I approached the smaller ship myself.

"Any final words you wish to impart, sir?" my spokeswoman asked me.

"Other than asking you again to drop the 'sir' stuff around me?" I laughed.

"Under the circumstances—"

"I know," I grinned, "I know. And sure. I'll say a couple things."

Charlotte rolled her eyes at me a little, but patted me a couple of times on the back. When I glanced at her upon feeling that reassuring tap, she gave in to a smile, and that helped to solidify in me the things I did want to say. I had worked out, much earlier, a few ideas for parting words to instill more hope and fortitude in my Corporation and this army, but her kind smile reminded me of the most important point I needed to make.

I passed that smile to my sister, and then to my father; the two of them returned the gesture, and my father gave me an encouraging nod. I brushed my left hand down Lex's arm as I walked past her and closer to the ship, and she squeezed my wrist lightly to give me her full support. To Zim, I hesitated for a second before choosing to salute him, my right hand flat and angled by my forehead, the way I'd always seen done. He looked a little confused at first, but straightened up and returned the gesture. It was the best signal I could use to give him thanks. He was the head of my army, after all.

I trusted him to do the right thing. I had to.

Then, I stepped up on top of the newly renovated Spittle Runner, now at a high enough point to see and be seen by everyone who was gathered around. Outside, nestled in the horseshoe of buildings that made up the Corporation complex, my voice would carry well—and I was glad… this would be the last time I'd give a public speech to the SEC before taking on the Control Brains, before finding my own way in the ancient Irken Prophecy, before bringing some kind of change to the Irken Empire.

I'd come back, though, I kept on telling myself. All of us would. That was my fondest hope, and I would cling to that until the end.

"Members of the Swollen Eyeball Corporation," I began, outstretching my hands to address everyone, "and friends from distant places. I'm going to keep this brief, but know that what we are embarking upon today is a mission that will be met with no regrets. This is a fight we can and will win… to protect our home and to make not more enemies but allies. This is a mission to restore functionality to an Empire too industrial for its own good, and to restore a voice to a race that for too long has been stifled to monotony. We are not leaving to conquer, but to mend. Fight those who oppose you, but do so knowing that we _will someday soon _stand side by side as sister races. This is a fight to not be severed, to open our communications and to open the minds of the Irken race.

"We fight to put an end to Invasion. To put an end to the tyranny and atrocities committed by the recent false Tallest, Tak, and to put an end to the unjust rulings of the Irken Control Brains.

"Thank you for taking this journey with me," I finished. "We aren't just a Corporation, not just faces in the masses." I glanced at Charlotte again, and said to everyone the thing that had crossed my mind when I'd seen her smile: "We're family. So let's protect our own and go into this fight with the hopes to make this family grow, not divide. My thanks to all of you, again."

I drew in a deep breath, and finished strongly, "Let's head to the stars."

– – –

"Was that lame?" I wondered.

We'd broken orbit. I'd let Tenn take the lead, since I trusted her navigational skills more than anyone else's, and had Skutch follow her so that we could bring up the rear and divert if necessary. Tenn, Zim and Skutch had alerted the army together to commandeer any small vessels they could, if the opportunity arose. We'd need all the help we could get, when it came to mobility of our numbers. Hopefully the Meekrob could help us out with that as well, once they joined on, which I trusted them to do when they knew the time was right.

I was piloting the Spittle Runner, and showing my father the ropes. He had the ship memorized in an instant, though; I wasn't worried. So that gave him some free time to pass out extra packets of a new invention of his: oxygen tablets. Dad, Gaz and I were all pretty convinced that the Irken race was an oxygen-based one (and when I'd asked Skutch, he'd shrugged and asked me what oxygen was, so I went with my gut instead of any kind of Irken reassurance), but we couldn't be too careful. We'd made sure Tenn and Skutch had enough of the tablets to give out to the army, as well.

"Your speech?" Lex guessed. She was pressed against the window to my right, watching the stars go by, then turned away rather quickly to look at me, only to bend over herself and stick her head between her knees.

"Yeah my—Lex, what's up, you okay?" I wondered, cutting myself off.

"I know that sometimes romantic things make one want to vomit," my girlfriend said, "but right now I honestly don't know if the view outside is beautiful or if it makes me legitimately want to puke."

"You sure it's the view and not Dib's driving?" Zim dug at me.

"You shut up," I muttered. "I'm a better pilot than you."

"Are not."

"Am so!"

Gaz groaned and leaned forward to rub Lex's back. "At least you're getting sick from the atmosphere outside," she consoled her friend. "These guys make _me_ want to vomit all the time."

I felt myself start laughing.

"What?" Gaz demanded.

"Not you, I'm laughing at myself," I assured her. "I was afraid that stuff I said to the army back there was lame, but at least I wasn't picking a childish fight and talking about throwing up in front of them."

"Either way, I'm proud of you," Dad commented.

Gaz and I sighed and said, "Thanks, Dad," in unison.

But the lighthearted moments couldn't last. It wouldn't be long, now, until we were in the thick of the battle, whichever part of it came first.

The way we'd set the mission up was fairly simple. Skutch and Tenn would pilot their individual carriers toward the _Massive, _but stay out of sight until I caught up. First thing was first, though… we'd divert from the main group in order to bring Zim to Station Nine first. That stop would, as Zim himself had stated, probably free Tak up to head anywhere she wanted in order to make her next move, so our small group would simply continue to the _Massive_ for a start. After all, those Brains were already primed to be attacked.

Once on the _Massive,_ Skutch would join with Tenn and give over piloting duties to a member of his team that he was training as they flew. In an ideal situation, I would have wanted that person to be Victor Haynsworth. God, I did feel a little lost without having him around for this battle… and I knew that, if he'd had a choice at all, he would have wanted to do anything in his power to help.

Knowing that was probably contributing to Lex's present unease. We didn't mention it, though. All of us just had to keep going.

I did not want to experience any more loss out here on the new battlefield, but I knew that it was probably inevitable. But at the same time, I was placing my most trusted friends and companions in charge of the missions. Skutch and Tenn as the chief pilots. Dad and Lex as the heads of the footsoldiers. Zim on his own to face down whatever ghosts from his past he needed to before he could join up with us again. Gaz and I… wherever we had to go.

And soon, I had to keep on telling myself… soon, we'd have Ira back, as well.

We had to be ready for anything to happen, though. We had to keep our focus on the Control Brains, and stick to that primary mission.

The trip there would have been a long one, had Skutch not informed us of a wormhole. It was one that, he told us once we'd broken orbit, Tak's Elite had used to quickly travel from the _Massive's_ current location to Earth, and one that he had discovered was still in effect when he'd returned to Earth himself to join us. Luckily, the rift was still there.

I had navigated my way through the stars of the Milky Way before, and had dealt with a wormhole once, so I was confident enough in my piloting abilities to get us through to the other side without worry. The rip in space opened just past Mars's two new artificial moons (created by a Russian team that included the SEC's own Russian representatives, apparently), and I could sense all of us in the Spittle Runner holding our breath as we entered.

The wormhole, which looked like little more than a small tear in a sheet of starry paper, sucked us into blackness, which suddenly exploded into a bright white light. Lex let out a yelp beside me and grabbed my arm; I heard Gaz and Zim start to react, as well, but I had to keep my own focus and not let the sudden brightness blind or bother me. I'd dealt with worse, I kept on telling myself. I had dealt with worse.

"Everyone just hold on," I called out to the others on board, "and whatever you do, try to keep still! We can't afford to rock the ship, or who knows where we'll end up."

That said, I pushed the engines into hyperdrive and sped forward through the gleaming tunnel we had found ourselves in, but could still not catch my breath. The ship's red warning light came on as auxiliary power.

"We're gonna hit electrical failure for about five seconds," Tenn's voice came through the communicator built into the ship. "So hit your auto-pilot _now_ if you wanna keep up your pace!"

"Done," I said, quickly doing exactly what she had commanded. The auto-pilot feature was one of the easiest to activate, and kicking the ship into automatic allowed me to close my eyes for that blessed five seconds.

The bright tunnel was then the only light, for the longest five seconds of my life. I could feel the ship lose altitude a little, but knew better than to kick on any more of the auxiliary battery. The ship would re-charge itself once we made it through to the other side. I held onto Lex to keep her reassured that we'd be all right, and her grip tightened on me. She was the one of us on board taking the interstellar flight the hardest. I had no idea whether or not Dad had ever been out of orbit like this, but I was pretty sure that hardly anything of the supernatural sort fazed my father.

Then, as if someone had simply flicked a light switch, the power came back on. The bright tunnel was gone.

I opened my eyes—

—And saw the Armada.

"Holy shit, that was quick," Skutch commented via communicator.

There were ships in formation before us, their numbers easily in the upper hundreds. Some were the size of the cargo ships Tenn and Skutch were piloting, others quite possibly the size of a town back home. They ranged in color from grey to a spectrum of red and purple, and every single one of them was armed. The smaller ships had smooth, rounded shapes to them, like the Runner I felt, now, much too tiny in, and the larger ships began taking on more angular, spiked forms. It was not hard to spot the laser turrets on any of them.

The worst of it? This wasn't even a sneak attack. We were the ones intruding.

"What's going on?" I heard Charlotte ask through my watch screen. "Are you back online? I've been trying to get through to you!"

"Yeah, we're fine," I answered. "I, uh… I think."

"Mind explaining?" my spokeswoman asked.

"Well, there's a fleet of Irken vehicles in front of us, and—"

"Did you lose any ships?" Charlotte clarified. "Have there been any attacks? You were offline for a week!"

"A we—a _week?"_ I erupted. "N-no way, that's impossible!"

"Not really," Zim said. I jumped; I'd almost forgotten he was even there. "It took me several months the first time I came to Earth. I'm not surprised that wormhole was linked to space _and_ time. It kinda makes sense." Maybe that was that aerodynamics book of his talking, but I was glad he'd said a few things, and that Charlotte had heard him as well. Plus, he couldn't be on the wrong track—I'd been stranded on Meekrob for an equivalent of three months on Earth without even feeling like a few days had gone by.

"Sorry about that, Charlotte," I said, swerving starboard to narrowly dodge a laser missile that was suddenly shot our way, "but I can't really talk right now. We'll keep you posted on how things go."

"I certainly hope so."

"Dib." Tenn's voice was loud and clear once Charlotte obliged to hang up the call. "Your ship's faster than any of these, so you've got an advantage. Go above them and take a left."

"I put the specs in your navigation system," Skutch added. "Auto-pilot and you're good."

"Thanks, guys," I breathed out. "Can you handle these ships, you think?"

"Unless they bother to track us, we should have a smooth flight to the _Massive,"_ Tenn boasted. "These're borrowed, remember?" Oh, yeah… and we'd never painted over the Irken decals. Only my modified Spittle Runner, with its SEC logo and other modifications clearly done by human hands, would look out of place. "It's also good," Tenn went on, "not to attack until attacked."

"Agreed," Zim said. I glanced up and back at him, and saw that his stern focus was centered past the cockpit and out at the fleet around us. "It's going to be tough to call until we see the soldiers themselves, but we need to gauge who among any of these guys is with Red, or with Tak. Even then, I'm sure that just because an Irken will have loyalty to Red again won't mean he'll necessarily know that Red's on our side."

Gaz snorted. I shot her a look, and she rolled her eyes. "I get that he is," she growled, "I just can't wait to punch his face in."

"You and me both," Tenn commented.

"I just wanna punch _some_thin'," Skutch added. "Get moving! We've got ourselves a fight to—uh—fight."

"Well, you tried," Zim laughed at his brother.

"Anyway, thanks again," I said to the two other pilots. "We'll see you soon."

"We'll wait for you guys on the _Massive,"_ Tenn agreed.

"Good luck, bro," Skutch added before cutting transmission.

Even though he could no longer be heard over the system, Zim half-whispered a sincere, "Thank you."

The ship that had shot at us moved forward; I had to move, it was now or never. With barely enough time to breathe, I called out to the others on board, "Hold on to something, guys."

But just as I missed the smaller one, an enormous battleship rose up in front of us, maroon in color and oddly triangular in shape. I yelped a bit, out of surprise, but slammed my fist onto the glowing control panel in front of me. The action then jutted my ship straight up like an elevator. I then gunned it forward and to the left, as Tenn had instructed. I could still hear laser cannons going off in the distance, but I figured they were pretty far behind us.

Never underestimate the range of an Irken military laser cannon. You know, just in case you're ever on the wrong side of one. The next thing I knew, we'd been hit, though not badly, from behind. The blast jostled the ship and got all of us momentarily panicked.

_"Shit!"_ I spat. "Where'd that even come from?"

"Check your panel," said Zim, who now stood over me and Lex, keeping himself up with a death grip on the backs of the front seats. "I think Skutch fixed your radar on there."

"Ugh, I hate radars," I muttered. "We shoulda just installed rear-view fucking mirrors."

"Well, at least we're still flying," Lex pointed out. "So I'd say we forget it and move."

"Good plan," I managed.

_"GO!"_ Gaz shouted at me.

I nodded, grit my teeth, and continued onward at the highest speed I dared go. Our ship, I knew, was at a slight disadvantage, since I'd uninstalled the personality interface, and therefore had to rely almost entirely on physical commands, rather than verbal. Irken pilots, to my understanding and according to things Tenn had told me, synched their PAKs to their ships, which made the vehicles an extension of their consciousness. They didn't need mirrors if their ships shared the pilots' basic instincts.

The damage was indeed minimal and negligible. We were still flying fine, and were even able to relax somewhat once I turned on the autopilot as we sailed through the stars and found ourselves in the sheltered safety of another segment of the galaxy the wormhole had dumped us out into. While we had the time, I checked in on the others, too. I was holding up fine—this kind of thing was, quite literally, second nature to me—but I wanted to be sure our whole group was okay.

Dad and Gaz expressed the basic want to get back on solid ground, but were otherwise fine. Lex hummed out an agreement, her head once again between her knees, and added, "I'm just closing my eyes and telling myself it's a rollercoaster."

"Sorry, hon," I said, rubbing her back, "I probably should've warned you. I keep forgetting not everyone's done space travel."

"Oh, no, no, don't worry about it," Lex assured me, patting my knee even though she still had her head down. "I'm sure I'll get used to it, but it will be nice to stand up and get my bearings."

"Well, we're close. Don't worry."

Dad continued reassuring her (and I heard him talk a little about having been out of orbit once, though I did not catch when, why or how… but Dad was Dad and anything was possible and probable with that guy) as I glanced back at Zim to get his input.

Zim was pale as death. He looked sick and exhausted, but his expression was clear and determined. Gaz held tightly to his hand, and before I could ask or say a thing, I saw her look worriedly over his upper right arm. Despite it being covered, now, by the long sleeve of his uniform jacket, I knew how awful it must have looked, and could only imagine what it felt like. I knew the pains of having a PAK rip through bone and tissue, but actual decay? That must have been excruciating.

But what I found myself thinking about most, as I glanced back at the two, was the fact that Zim was wearing that uniform at all. Ours was a thrown-together army made up of skilled professionals from all sides of the field of paranormal investigation, and he had managed to work with all of them. He and Tenn had, together, gathered the army volunteers into groups based on their myriad skills, and he was determined to help out in any way possible. Even though it must have been so physically painful for him to so much as stand at times.

It was interesting and haunting, how Zim's plight affected all of us. When he was hurt or unwell, so too was my sister, and seeing her ailing in turn hurt me. But being hurt in that way made me stronger, made me want to be a better leader, a better friend, a better brother, a better partner for Lex, a better son not only to my own parents but to my godfather, who treated me like family.

I'd become almost overwhelmingly sympathetic to Zim's cause. He wanted to be human, more than anything. Yes, he had his downfalls. Yes, he had a brutal past. But his sincerity won out, and he'd really made me realize how lucky I was to have been born human at all. Maybe I'd had a shitty childhood, but things were looking up. I'd been able to have hobbies, I had a sister who would complain but would always listen to me no matter how crazy my childhood rants could get. I'd always had the Network. He had to build an experience from scratch, and had done so in a very short amount of time.

He wanted to be human, I realized, because he'd become attracted to the idea of having the right to a personality. To have the things that the Control Brains undermined. It was our goal to allow the Irkens to have those things back as well, but he hadn't known that from the start—hell, _I_ hadn't known that from the start.

It made me wonder about Miyuki. About how she'd decided to stay on Earth, about how she'd chosen to be with Dad. To have a family. She was nuts in her own way for leaving, but to her she'd just been protecting us from a premature fight. So she let us grow up, and waited.

I glanced back at Zim and Gaz again, then turned forward again. I set my right arm around my girlfriend and tugged her a little closer, letting her rest her head on my shoulder as I continued navigating straight ahead based on the autopilot's directions.

When you're human, you're given a lot of choices. Sometimes, people or groups or words or ideas will make you try to think the way they want you to, but ultimately, it all comes down to you. We don't have machines implanted in us from birth telling us what the 'regulation' emotions are or what our duties need to be. We don't have to feel superior or inferior to anything unless we want to. We can choose whether or not we believe in anything higher than ourselves, and we can choose to believe in what lies within us individually. Humans are innovative. We're curious. We fuck up but we don't have to consider that to be failure. We can take life or leave it, we can travel, we can learn—God, we can spend every day reading and devouring information and still have more to learn—and we can fall in love.

And honestly… I couldn't think of a more noble, determined person for my sister to have started a relationship with than the human hopeful that sat beside her now. I made my mind up, then and there, that, no matter what, I'd support them. I had been, more or less, but I told myself to put more faith in my sister's boyfriend. (Oh, wow, okay, still a little weird to say, but I'd get used to it.) He could win. He _would._ He knew what he wanted and I was sure he could achieve it.

Nearly an hour passed before the ship's warning lights flashed, alerting us that the Station was on our immediate horizon. "Oh, my," Lex whispered, sitting up straight. "Is that it?"

"Has to be," I nodded.

"It is," Zim confirmed, his tone at once frightened and focused. He positioned himself directly behind us again, standing to peer over our shoulders and out to the hovering Station. "Doesn't look like much now, but this is pretty much where everything started. And it's where at least one other thing has got to end."

He was right, it didn't look like much. The Station itself was bland and unimpressive, but it was true that it held the memory of the most sordid part of not only Zim's history, but my mother's as well.

"So," I heard my dad comment under his breath, "this is the one… just as I pictured it, really…"

I was sure he'd heard stories. Once this whole fiasco was over, I wanted so badly to talk in more detail to both of my parents. I wanted to know who they were. I'd declared the Corporation my family, but there was so much to learn about my nuclear family's history that, I was sure, would give me not only more of a sense of family, but of home and belonging.

The Station was the size of a small moon, and was one in a circle of about fifteen similar satellites orbiting a cloudy grey planet. I couldn't tell exactly at first, but a second good look told me that they were dust clouds. The planet was in the process of recovering from what must have been a widespread and tactical conflagration. Barbed wire surrounded the miserable grey orb as well, and it appeared to be electrified—red sparks shot out here and there to warn passing ships.

Vort.

That hellish place was the research prison I had heard of before. The place Lard Nar had originally hailed from. Now it was dust, conquered by Invader Larb and acquisitioned into the Irken Empire to serve the Brains.

The fifteen Stations, too, were barbed… all but Nine. Station Nine, instead, itself a solid metal structure vaguely resembling Saturn—if Saturn had an orbital observation platform rather than rings—was encased in what looked like a bubble. I could sense static energy, though. That barrier was just as if not more dangerous than the barbed wire.

"Great," I muttered. "How do we get through that?"

"It's a code, remember?" my sister said, walking up to stand beside Zim. My father rose to his feet as well for a better view, but hung toward the back. "That stupid Red knows it, but I don't wanna ask him."

"Gotta ask someone, though," Zim said sympathetically.

"I dunno," I said. "Honestly, guys, I don't think we need to ask. I'm gonna take a wild guess on this one."

"What if you're wrong?" Lex wondered. "No offense."

I shook my head. "I'm not wrong."

"Son," Dad warned, "I tried to tell myself that fo—"

"It's 80891!" I erupted.

Everyone's silence was enough to convince me that they agreed.

I still could not understand why my birthday was so important, or who had originally started using it as a code. Tak was crazy about it, though, and I figured Red and Ira (or at least just Ira) would have chosen a code we could easily guess in case they were not available to pass it on to us.

"I-if it is," Gaz said nervously, "and if Tak's on there, wouldn't she have guessed it and broken out by now?"

"Shit, you're right," I mumbled.

"42892?" Gaz guessed.

Before I could react, Zim was the one to mention under his breath, "Your birthday." April 28th, 1992. It reminded me again how truly close we were in age.

"Yeah." I glanced behind me to see my sister nodding stiffly. "If Red and Ira locked this place up together, I'm sure that's what would've happened. Red would've gone with the obvious, but Ira's—he's… he's smarter than that. He is."

"I know," I said calmly. "And you're right, Gaz, it probably is your birthday."

"I'll vouch for that decision," Dad agreed. "Your mother was all about dates and prophecies and whatnot. Oh, she had a field day with Nostradamus—"

"Dad, maybe not the best time for anecdotes!" I interrupted.

"Sorry. You're right." He let out a slight sigh, and continued, "It's a safe bet that anything we'll be up against that requires a code will be one of those two dates."

"Thanks," I said, turning back to the control panel.

Figuring out how to enter the code was fairly simple. It was all about sending signals. With the silence that had followed my outburst as my background, I opened up a keypad on the controls and carefully typed in _42892,_ my hand only slightly shaking as I did. I couldn't risk hitting the wrong number.

The code was indeed correct. As soon as I'd entered it, I flicked a switch over my head to send the signal out into the surrounding area. An odd, eerily melodic hum began to drone through space, and the bubble around the station glowed blue for a moment before fading away. "Thanks, Ira," I heard Gaz whisper.

I let out a breath I had no idea I'd been holding, out of relief for not having screwed anything up, then said, "All right. Ready? I'm gonna bring this thing down there. Any idea where I should dock, Zim?"

"Eh… somewhere inside," he suggested. "I don't know… I can't say I remember the layout of this place so much as just the feeling."

"You saw the blueprint!" I nagged him.

"Jeez, so did you," he argued back. "We should've marked an entrance."

We were both silent for a second, then decided together, "Let's blame Skutch."

"Oh, my God, you two are idiots," Lex half-laughed as I began the descent.

"And this is why you and me are friends," Gaz said to her, as the girls shared a slight roll of the eyes.

I heard Dad laugh a bit as well, mostly out of pride, it seemed, but I didn't react any further. After all, we did have the blueprints mapped out into the navigation system—I called them up on Lex's side of the control panel screen, and had her be my co-pilot for a moment so we could figure out the best entrance to the Station.

The orbital platform that encircled the Station had four connecting ramps that led one directly from the platform to a gated sliding metal door, and only two of them were large enough to let a ship in. Out of the two possible docking bays, we chose the one facing away from the planet itself, and as soon as we landed, the door belched out a creak and groaned open. It was not familiar with constant use anymore, far from it… but it had been used recently. We would have been faced with more difficulty from it if it hadn't.

Tak was on there, somewhere. Red had seen to it that she'd been stuck there; I wouldn't be surprised if he personally had been the one to re-open that docking bay door in order to lock her up. Either way, it made our landing easier.

Easier, but by no means welcoming. There was one lonely light on the ceiling of a large domed room that felt more like the Roman Colosseum than anything, and the entire grey bay was cast in the pale glow from that tiny lamp. "Jeez," I muttered upon bringing the engines down and landing on the cracked grey floor. The door heaved closed behind us, and I heard oxygen levels settle outside with a hiss. "This place sure is…"

"The site for a murder?" Zim offered, lamenting. The rest of us stared at him; Gaz tightened her grip on his hand. Zim sighed. "Sorry," he said. "I've just… well, no, honestly, I've never been so afraid in my life."

"You can do this," Gaz told him. "You said you would. Get that back."

"I know," Zim said. "I know. I will. I'll be fine. It's just hitting me that I'm here." He winced, but was able to brush off whatever discomfort it was that he'd started feeling.

"You sure you're fine without backup?" I double-checked with him, letting him hear my doubt as clearly as I could possibly project it.

"It's better if I go alone for now, while the Brains are still dormant," he reminded me, speaking for the girls' benefit as well. "Tak's there, but I think her first move is going to be to leave, just like Red speculated. She's not sticking around, and she'll know why I'm here, anyway. Keep an eye on GIR's chassis," he added, "just in case Tak or MiMi decide to try anything funny."

"Will do," I nodded. "Skutch has GIR right now, since he can de-frag him if needed."

"Good," Zim sighed. "I still can't believe that damn little robot…"

"Hey," Gaz assured him, setting her hands on his lower arms, "we, um… we'll make sure GIR doesn't do any stupid shit. Stupid even for him."

Zim grinned, but held back a laugh. Maybe he couldn't, at that moment, and I wouldn't blame him. I'd seen an unwelcoming reflection of myself in my mother's Mirror before, but that was nothing compared to the fact that Zim's past was still very much alive and _very_ pissed off at his present situation. He had changed. The PAK had not.

"You'd better be the one to make it out of this," I said, before realizing I'd spoken.

Zim nodded. "I will. I'll find you soon."

"Zim?" My sister was holding up very well for how awfully she must have been aching. I couldn't help but feel proud of her. Gaz lifted her head to say more, but before she spoke, she drew Zim in for a hug, which he returned without hesitation. "Stay strong, okay?" she said to him softly. "You can do this. I know you can."

"Thank you, Gaz," he whispered back. "I'm going to find you after this. I promise. I want you to promise me something, too."

The two drew back a little, and Gaz nodded as Zim leaned in to make up for their height difference. "Promise me you won't give up. On anything. No matter what." Gaz nodded again. It did hurt me to see her cry, but it was worse when I knew she was holding it back, as she was now. Her eyes were blurred and I knew I saw her shake. "Just live, Gaz," Zim went on, pressing one hand to her cheek. "Live, fight, and win."

"You, too," she managed.

I turned away just a little, but they were reflected against the glass of the front window of the Runner, so no matter where I aimed my focus, I couldn't really not see them kiss. I wasn't avoiding it, though; I was just respecting their privacy and intimacy. When I realized I couldn't avoid it, I let myself spy a bit on my sister's reactions. On how desperately she held onto him.

"I love you," Zim told her when he stood back. "I'm going to come back for you."

"I know you will," said Gaz, hugging him tightly one last time. "You're my boyfriend."

Zim grinned a bit as he returned her hug. "That I am."

"So I trust you."

"Thank you, Gaz."

They drew away, then, and Gaz placed her hands on Zim's shoulders, looked sternly into his eyes, and said, "Go win this."

"Gladly."

"Hey, Zim," I said, turning around in my seat completely.

"Eh?"

"Good luck, all right?" Not knowing what else to do, I reached back with my right hand, and after only a second of hesitation, Zim shook it solidly.

"You, too, Dib," he said with complete affirmation. "I know you guys've got this."

I nodded my acceptance of his comment, and our hands parted. I then flicked the switch overhead to open up the back door. Zim drew in a deep breath, exchanged 'good luck' comments with Lex and my father as well, then strode back to the door. He placed his hands on either side of the doorframe for a moment, as if checking to see whether or not the Station floor was solid or liquid, then glanced over his shoulder, smiled, and said, "See you soon."

With that, he left. His personal mission had, at his request, begun.

We waited to depart until we'd watched Zim survey the docking bay, check his pocket for additional oxygen tablets, and then at last leave for the interior Station.

Only then did Gaz let herself cry. "Oh, God," she choked, collapsing forward against the backs of the seats Lex and I occupied.

"Gaz!" the other three of us let out simultaneously.

Dad was the one standing, and he gathered Gaz back against him. Trying not to make a scene, Gaz grabbed onto our father tightly, her face pressed into the folds of his stark white lab coat. Calmly, reassuringly, Dad stroked back her hair and whispered a slow array of, "It's all right. It's going to be all right."

"Dad?" Gaz managed to say.

"Yes, dear?"

"Thank you for coming back."

"Of course, Gaz," Dad said on a gentle tone. "And you know I feel awful for ever having let myself be less than a father to you."

"Zim will be back, too," Lex offered in her kind way. "I'm sure of it."

"Thanks," Gaz sighed.

I knew that she was thinking of Ira, as well. He was on my mind, too; as was Victor. We still had a lot to do, but we had to pace ourselves. Get the fears out now and just push forward. Knowing this, I patted my sister's arm, then checked the ship's engines (and luckily the damage from the earlier blast had corrected itself), and took off.

Once we had made it a good distance from the Station, I said, "He knows what he's doing, Gaz. Or at least he'd better. Besides, I'm pretty sure Miyuki's gonna find him, and she's not gonna let our group stay separated for too long, not when we're finally out here doing her mission. Our mission," I corrected.

"Right," Gaz said, shaking herself of her worry. She let out a huff of breath, shook herself out again, then grabbed onto a beam overhead for balance, and said, "Let's go."

Without further ado, we were off. I reversed the coordinates on the navigation system and let the ship fly us back to where Tenn and Skutch were waiting with the army. To the _Massive._ To find Red, and begin to take down the Control Brains.

Maybe this was their turf, but I still held that we were stronger.

Fewer in number, but stronger all the same.

– – –


	2. The Mirror 1: Station Nine

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim_

Station Nine smelled of destruction. Of long burnt-out lights and rusted wires, of fire damage and decay. I could feel ruin the same way I could feel hot or cold temperatures in the air. War was in the blood of my past, and I could not escape from that.

I could, however, fight it.

The Station, to what memory of it I had, once was a shining example of advanced technology. Its large hallways and domed ceilings had been passages to grand, circular rooms littered with research computers, laboratories, communication screens and walls of raw materials, and had been bustling with activity both organic and robotic. Irkens and Vortians were the predominant staff, and despite Vort's 'free' planetary status at the time, it was clear to all that this was one of the places the Empire was priming for conquest.

It had been an ensign of its own, that research station; a window to every horizon within the Empire. And home, now just as it had been back then, to some of the most powerful Control Brains within the regiment. The hum of the station was not from the normal acceleration of subspace engines. The Brains were keeping the place alive. I could feel them watching me.

I walked from the loading dock to the site of Miyuki's final Irken hour. My footsteps echoed through the abandoned halls, and were occasionally answered by the sound of rattling chains.

_"Ever closer," _my PAK hissed at me.

"Don't get too comfortable," I growled back.

I followed the sparks and pops of dying electric lights to the scene of the crime. As soon as I stood in the entrance, a once magnificent, now dilapidated arch, I could feel everything. Desperation. Panic. Suffering. Cold, bitter hatred. Denied, forgotten, long dead love. Forgotten, maybe, but never appeased. Never settled. I could not take one more spiritual step forward toward humanity until I attained closure within Station Nine.

This was where the Commander had lost everything: his title, his Tallest, his dignity and his mind.

I was not about to lose my humanity here, too.

The room was falling apart. Wires hung and sparked off of the shattered and shabbily-repaired ceiling. Glass lay strooned about, neglected for decades. It smelled of mold and dried blood. And, oh, there was blood… splattered on the walls and floor, some oddly-colored paths leading to long since rotted Vortian bodies—hardly even bodies anymore; just piles of stark bone.

Some of the blood was Miyuki's.

Some of it was mine.

At the center of the room, barely lit but emitting its own glow, stood the Mirror.

Miyuki was nowhere to be seen, but lying in front of the haunting Talisman were my own weapons. I found not _Osdraken_ itself, but the two smaller _sairedon_ that Miyuki had given me during the first of Tak's Invasions. They crossed each other in an _x_ formation, the blades pointing toward the Mirror.

Taking in a deep breath, I approached. Wires hissed; I heard something else shatter. But I kept my focus forward. I watched my own reflection as I took confident strides closer and closer to the beautifully-framed Mirror.

There I stood, as human as was presently possible. That could change soon, I told myself. This mission, this personal mission, was for the purpose of conquering the Fear that stood between me and the promise of a human soul. After that, all that was left was Love, and I could begin my life anew. Live on Earth, create my own future, be with the girl I had sworn to love and protect forever.

This was about breaking from the Empire that for so long had cast me out, and turning to a world that would accept me. This was about learning how not to be afraid to feel. This was a journey I had needed to take for a very long time, finally reality.

This was my last chance to conquer the only thing I had any control over.

I watched my reflection as I took in a deep breath in preparation. I looked tired, but I had plenty of fight left in me. Filling myself with resolve, I knealt down to reclaim my weapons. They felt hot and cold in my hands, and the blades seemed to speak to me. To test them out, I held my arms out to the sides and spun the blades out to their full length, and then back. Satisfied, I stood.

And let out a yelp when I noticed that my reflection was not the same as it had been when I'd arrived. Shocked and horrified, I looked myself over, confirming that I was still wearing the SEC army uniform jacket, that I still had control over myself.

But when I stared back at the Mirror, my reflection had not moved. That wasn't my reflection. Not entirely.

It was 'me' as I had appeared in the dream I'd fallen into when I lost consciousness once… directly after Dib had told me the truth about his and Gaz's relationship to Miyuki.

What I saw was more or less my human reflection, only older, and bearing a much, much darker expression. While I had, since Tak's initial strike with the Time Warp Machine and that strange generator, appeared around sixteen, this reflection appeared closer in age to Red's human form; then again, as far as I knew, Red and I were in Irken years the same age. Missing pieces of my memory had bumped me down, I assumed.

My reflection wore no real form of uniform. His torso was fully exposed and showed off the wound on my upper right arm, and the cut across my chest. His, I noticed, was much more pronounced, leading me to fully see the cut that had been made when he dug out his heart. A plate of armor was affixed to his left shoulder, off of which hung a chain that kept _Osdraken_ in place on his back; a sharp charm hung from a chain on his right wrist. He wore only black pants, stained with dust and blood from having seen battle, and thick black boots that were strapped up to his calves.

Under his awful red eyes were deep, horrifying shadows brought on by lack of or perhaps disinterest in sleep, and on his forehead appeared the clear red symbol of the Irken Elite.

The Commander. Angered to be confined to a human body.

And then he spoke, as soon as I'd recovered from my shock: "Well, well. Hello, human."

My back ached, but I steeled myself to speak to him. "Let's cut the formalities," I said sternly. "I just want you out of my mind so I can go on with my life."

"Oh, my; strong words," the Commander mocked me. "I'm afraid life isn't that simple. You see, memories don't just disappear."

"I'm not making any deals with you," I snapped.

"Good. Neither am I."

With that, the Commander grinned. Broad and white, it terrified me; I tried so hard not to show the fear I already knew that he delighted in taunting me with. But far, far more terrifying than anything the Commander had done before, my perceived reality itself was defied.

Because at that moment, he grabbed onto the ornate frame of Miyuki's Mirror, as if the glass did not exist, and on a breath he hauled himself out to the shoulders. I stumbled back, but he reached out with his right hand to catch me by the collar. "Come on, then," he snarled at me. "Let's see just how well you can hold your own in this wretched place."

Before I could even begin to struggle, he hauled me back toward him, and I winced, but felt a rush of cold air as he yanked me into the Mirror. Empty blackness swirled around us. Overhead, a grey haze. Below, the same. It was difficult to tell where the horizon was, or if one even existed. It bothered me that I had not seen Miyuki, but it was possible that she had not wanted to converse with me prior to my entering that Mirror.

It was the gateway, I realized, to the dimension through which she had been able to travel for years. If the Mirror was a reflection of inner self, Miyuki must have been in a balance with hers… whereas I had two separate goals at war inside me. The only way to deal with my past was head-on. To fight it.

To fight my actual reflection. To change things. Once and for all.

The Commander did not ease his grip, so I pushed him back, which confirmed for me that he now was solid. Each of us was just as real as the other, and each just as uninviting.

"Welcome!" the Commander laughed, tossing his hands out to either side. Shit. He did look stronger than me. More determined. Naturally—he was a killer. He had a kind of confidence I did not want to possess. I'd never win against him blade to blade. I had to outsmart him, I told myself. The _sairedon_ were just for show. "Welcome to my mind, human, to the pit you flung me into the second you stepped foot on that dis_gust_ing planet, Earth."

He spoke with very hard consonants and elongated words beginning on vowels, indicative of the Ancient Irken accent. As nice as it was to have the sound coming from somewhere other than inside my head, it was almost more disturbing that the voice now had its own body. A body the Commander did not even like. The fact that he looked human proved to me that I still had a chance to beat him. I already had that one thing to lord over him with.

My mind was the last thing I had to conquer. My own damned history.

"Well?" he barked. "Say something! I'm not asking you to beg, not yet, though some nice bargaining will do before I snuff you out. I've had enough of you. Say something or attack. If you don't, I will."

"Enjoy the sound of your own voice while you have one," I decided to begin. It worked. The Commander snarled, and took a few steps closer to me.

I stared him straight in the eye, wondering when he would draw his sword to begin the fight.

He didn't.

He grabbed my arm.

The long, rough fingers of his left hand tightened around the laceration on my upper right arm, and I thought I heard something snap as his fingertips rubbed against the part of my skin that had fallen into decay. I let out a cry, but bit it back. The Commander leaned in, so that his lips brushed my ear as he said, "Take off that fucking uniform. You make me sick."

I said nothing. Hissing through my breaths, I grabbed at his hand with my left, trying to pry off his fingers. No luck.

"I could rip your arm off to make things interesting," my past self growled, "but I'm not going to. Oh, but my dear human, I am going to tear you apart."

He let go of me, shoving me back. I shook off the pain and grabbed up my weapons, ready for anything.

"Perhaps not limb by limb, but moment by moment," he continued. "I have been waiting much, much too long for this."

"I'm not interested," I snapped. "I'm here to get rid of you."

"No," the Commander said on a low tone. "You are here to run away."

"What?"

"You are here to try to kick me out of your head and run from your past for the rest of your sad little life. I think not, human. I think not."

"I never said—" I began to argue.

"You need to hurry up and remember what I had to go through in order to get into my current position," the Commander lashed out. "I did not work that hard to become this… this… unrefined pile of flesh and stinking blood. There are oh, so many to blame, but, human, you have been by far the worst."

"In the way of what?" I challenged him.

"Ensnaring me," the Commander hissed.

All right, fine. I'd play his game a little. I'd learn just as much as I needed to, but no more. After all, the more I knew about the Commander's sick past, the more I may find myself motivated to do away with it. "I'm proud of the things I've done as a human," I said strongly. The Commander snorted and drew his sword. My heart began pounding. "A-and I'm sure you're proud of the things that you—"

"Proud?" he growled as he turned to face me again. "Proud hardly begins to do my work justice. I am the greatest soldier the Empire has ever known." He took a step closer to me, eyes set and red and bloodshot and unforgiving. His right hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "I destroyed the Kalleck race."

"You're fucking disgusting," I coughed out, sick with the knowledge of that.

"I did the universe a favor! We have no need for scholars or scientists in this Empire, not anymore!" the Commander hollered—closer, he stepped closer, closer… "Soldiers! That is what we need and that is what I am! Greater than all, higher than the leader of any planet within our grasp. I didn't kill my former Commander to waste away in the body of some emotion-driven dreamer like you."

Fear.

Fear.

He had to be afraid of something.

Was it indeed me? Was it the prospect of being human?

How could I use that? What could I possibly say to him that would give me my advantage? How the hell could I convince someone so terrifyingly boastful that being human was not something to look down on? That being human was wonderful, that…

"Wait…" I said, hearing my voice quiver, "you killed the Commander before you?"

The very first vision my PAK had forced on me flashed into the back of my mind. That blade plunged into the lifeless body. The Elite Commander before me. Killed in action.

"I killed him to advance," said my other half. "I was better. I was the Commander that Miyuki deserved."

"Miyuki?" I repeated. "Now, listen up," I tried, as he advanced further still. "I know there's more in you than just the need to kill. You loved her, right?"

"You're so simple," the Commander taunted me. "Not all things can be explained by that one worthless emotion. Love is for the weak, human."

"I kinda like it," I mocked him.

"How would you know," he lashed right back, "if you've never been loved?"

That one got me.

No, I had never heard anyone say the phrase to me. Not anyone. Not Gaz. I had heard it spoken around me and felt glad for those who had found the person they wanted to share a found love with, but it had truly never been returned to me. I was so confident that I would know it once I conquered my fear, but…

_NO,_ I told myself. I couldn't think that way. I couldn't discount anything now.

I had faltered enough, though, and the Commander darted up to me. Before I could counter, he jabbed just the tip of his sword into my side. He did not mean for it to do much more than leave a cut, but the shock added to the searing pain that followed. I cried out and grabbed at the spot at my waist, just above my left hip. Blood seeped out from the cut and clung to my ruined shirt and jacket.

My opponent raised his sword to strike again, but this time I was ready. I drew my hand away just in time to lift up my _sairedon_ and cross them over my head to stop _Osdraken's_ path. Then, regulating my breath, I gathered enough strength to hurl the sword out of his hands.

"Ever a soldier," the Commander sneered as he backed away.

"Shut the hell up," I snapped.

"You've always been a fighter," he went on. "Let me back in. We have so much unfinished business, you know."

"Shut _up."_

"And imagine! I came to be you out of a gross misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" I repeated.

"Mirror!" the Commander called out. "Why don't you do your fucking job and give us a little reflection?"

Slowly, the blackness around us began to fade, and the Commander walked up to me again. He grabbed me from behind and put me in a headlock. I hadn't even been able to retaliate. Fuck, fuck, fuck—I wasn't used to the surroundings yet. I had to get my bearings or I really would just be surprised by every move he made.

He was my reflection. Just a reflection. But it was my mind I had to save. My body. My chance at being human. I couldn't afford to be in awe or intimidated.

But his grip was strong, and he made me stare forward as the nothingness shifted about to show me the Station room in which the Mirror now was. I was not seeing the room I had arrived in, however, but the laboratory as it had appeared decades ago. I was watching the Commander's memory.

My back ached worse than ever as wires from the PAK pushed against my spine, wanting to re-connect with the Commander and the knowledge it still had of the time I had long since forgotten. The room was hazy, but I could see everything in mirrored reverse. The Mirror had recorded everything into its own memory. It had been with Miyuki at all times, and was like a computer in regard to the way that it stored all of her own memories and information.

At the center of the hazy, remembered room stood Lard Nar. The Commander and I tensed together, out of mutual hate for the small Vortian scientist. My hatred was residual, though. The Commander had been the one to kill him, not me. Not me. I wasn't the murderer. I wasn't the one in the wrong.

Was I?

Near Lard Nar, a holoprojection screen was lit up with a swirling mock-up of the ship that would become the _Massive,_ and standing to its side were two tall Irkens. I wondered at first if they were Red and Purple before reminding myself that that was ridiculous—Red was still an Elite, then, and Ira Murasaki was years away from inadvertently becoming a part of the Empire, if he'd even been born yet.

The first of the two was indeed a Tallest. Her eyes were emerald green, her armored uniform gleaming silver, green and black. She held her head high, giving an angle to her curled antennae, and her PAK had an odd glow to it. Miyuki.

Tallest Miyuki.

Beside her was a small robot. A prototype for the SIR units that would become a part of the Invasion effort years later. No—not just any prototype; I knew it, that was _GIR._ His eyes were red, and he stood at attention. An appendage that looked all too similar to the one on MiMi's right arm appeared on his. All he did was stand and observe. He kept his gaze focused on the Vortian.

And then, stationed between Miyuki and Lard Nar, there stood the second of the tall Irkens, shorter than Miyuki by a small margin. His eyes were blood red, red as the Elite symbol on his forehead. Sharp silver armor padded his shoulders and upper arms, and his black uniform—a long tunic belted at the waist, simple pants and heavy boots—was stained with blood across his chest, from the inside, displaying his lack of a heart. Around his right wrist was that sharp, dagger-like charm, and strapped to his back with a chain was _Osdraken._

I froze. That was me. That had been me. At last I had a visual, and immediately I wanted to forget it.

_"Tallest Miyuki,"_ said the reflected memory of Lard Nar, his voice laced with unease,_ "Elite Commander Zim."_ The Tallest nodded. The Elite Commander snorted and folded his arms, probably to stop himself from wringing someone's neck. He looked terribly bored. _"We at Research Station Nine are honored with your visit."_

_ "You'd be wise to show it,"_ the Commander snapped.

Miyuki held a hand up to stop him, but the Commander and Lard Nar exchanged a scathing glare that she could not fight. _"Tell me,"_ Miyuki asked to keep the peace, _"what my finest minds are dreaming up for the Empire."_

_ "I've begun work on the preliminary designs for your new fleet leader,"_ said Lard Nar, gesturing to the hologram, _"as you requested. My Tallest."_

_ "It's garbage,"_ said the Commander. _"It will never fly. You're wasting your time, Miyuki. Vortian engineering is a thing of the past."_

_"It needs modifications,"_ Miyuki agreed, _"but I believe that Vortian engineering has pioneered some excellent achievements and will continue to do so."_

_ "Thank you, my Tallest,"_ said Lard Nar, with a very affected bow. _"Your Elite Commander does not put much faith in our work."_

The Commander, in the vision, watched Lard Nar closely. His deep red eyes followed the tiny Vortian's every move, as if expecting the worst. It was rather clear to me, now more than ever, that the Commander trusted no one but Miyuki. He was not the kind to care about a person who promised his or her word. Word was not enough. Never enough. Words and promises were, to the Commander, empty. Nothing. He was someone driven by and to action. Violence. The more blood, the higher his success.

_"I am entitled to my opinions,"_ the Commander spat at Lard Nar. _"And you are subordinate to those that under-rank me. Don't speak ill of me. This robot has a taste for organs."_

The old GIR prototype stared Lard Nar down but did not move.

Miyuki glanced from her Commander to the Vortian scientist, and moved to stand between them, in a gesture of peace. _"Please,"_ she requested diplomatically, her accented voice ringing clear through the domed room, _"let's not fight. Commander Zim, you will step down."_

_ "This petty scientist is wasting our time,"_ the Commander grunted.

_"If only you knew the things I am capable of, Commander!"_ Lard Nar argued. _"Why, I've inventions to rival those of your own dear Tallest!"_

Activity in the room ceased. Angered, livid, the Commander drew his sword. _Osdraken_ shone with the same thirst for blood the broadsword did now, and the Commander sliced it through the air once as a warning. _"You shut up,"_ he barked at Lard Nar. _"You will not compare yourself to the Tallest. You do understand what it is I could do to you. Any number of things, really."_

_ "Now, now, we're getting rather violent, aren't we?"_ Lard Nar said mockingly.

Miyuki, still in her failing attempt to keep peace, spoke again: _"I do take a great interest in the sciences and inventions. Please, Lard Nar, if you've more to show us, do so. Commander, you will withdraw your sword."_

_ "This scientist is making threats, my Tallest,"_ the Commander pointed out. _"Eradication would be swift and—"_

_ "No one will be killed today,"_ Miyuki said calmly. _"Show me your newest invention, Lard Nar."_

All around me, the blackness settled in again, and the reflection of that occurrence faded away before my eyes. The Commander let go of me roughly and strode away to reclaim his sword. "That's it?" I spat at him. "That's all you're going to show me?"

"You don't remember the rest?" the Commander taunted me, almost in a predatorial purr. "How dreadful. Your mind has truly become weak, human."

"Tell me what Lard Nar did to you!" I shouted. "To Miyuki!"

"Lard Nar was a liar and a fool," snarled the Commander, glowering over at me.

The Commander laughed, and bent over to pick up his sword with the ease of a child lifting a stick. "But the scientist is dead, now," he boasted, running his right hand up the Tavic blade of his treasured weapon. When his fingers touched the fresh blood on the tip, he grinned, rolled a sampling of it between his index finger and thumb, and wrote out, in Irken letters, the ancient Irken word for _DEATH._

It disturbed me that I could read it now. Perhaps because they were not the printed letters, but still… I could read the Irken. My eyes un-jumbled the letters, and I could understand both the pronunciation and meaning. A chill went down my spine.

_"Gero,"_ I read off. My tongue remembered it—speaking the hard _g_ and cutting off the _o_ at the very end, as if, just like the life that sword cut out, the word was unfinished. The Commander let out a satisfied hum. "That's _death,_ right? _Gero."_

"It is indeed." The Commander laughed again, somewhat, and licked the word off of his blade. "You're learning."

"Maybe it's better to learn than forget," I said strongly. "So that I don't go making the same mistakes again."

"For what purpose?" the Commander growled, turning to face me head on. He took a few steps closer, his heavy boots echoing through the cold nothingness. "You need to step up to your real destiny, you disgusting distraction."

I stood my ground. That was my best defense against the Commander. No matter how frightened I truly was, I had to try not to show it. After all, fear was the edge in this fight. I either had to succumb to it or rise above it. The more favorable option was obvious.

"That's all you are!" the Commander went on in his biting tone. "You are a distraction, and I am through playing your ridiculous little games."

"Being human isn't a game!" I hollered as he began to circle me. It was now a clearly-marked situation of predator and prey. He was sizing me up, memorizing my weak points, preparing when to strike.

And he said that I was the one playing games.

"Of course it is!" he snapped. "It's nothing but fantasy, you fucking idiot. You can't just re-write yourself."

"I never said I was," I argued. "I just want something better."

"Better?" He barked out another laugh, stopped, and spun me to face him. "What's better than ultimate freedom? Immortality? Think about it. I can kill any time I want. Why? Because I _can._ Because if I _do,_ then I—"

"What?" I interrupted. "You _win?"_

"SHUT UP."

"You sound like Tak."

That did not settle well with him. The Commander grabbed me by the collar and flung me aside; I hit the ground hard on my right arm and let out the cry that started in my gut upon feeling that searing pain shoot out from that dagger cut to every nerve on that side of my body. Ignoring it as best I could, I rolled onto my stomach and began to push myself up, but the Commander kicked me back down, his metal boot landing heavy on the back of my skull.

The wind was knocked out of me, and my vision went momentarily white. I could hear my pulse hard in my recovering eardrums. When I coughed, blood shot out of my mouth and splattered onto my hands. Slowly, I managed to sit back onto my knees; my left arm was shaking as I reached my hand behind to feel for the spot where I'd been kicked down.

There was a bruise, but luckily no cut. Yet. No blood caked into my hair or soaked my palm. But another blow there could be potentially fatal. New strategy, Zim: don't turn your back on the Elite Commander.

I shook my head to get my sight and hearing back up to speed, just in time to hear him take a step toward me from behind to repeat the blow. Thinking fast, I spun around and managed to grab him around the ankle and yank him to the ground with me.

Once down, the Commander grabbed up the dagger charm that encircled his right wrist and aimed for my face—I blocked him with my left arm and managed to get feeling back in my right hand in time to grab up my _sairedon_ and slash up his collar bone instead.

My own collar bone began to bleed.

I yelped and stumbled back. The Commander erupted into a short roar of triumphant laughter and hauled me up by the front of my jacket. "You notice so little, human," he said, mocking my surprise. "So very, very little."

Breathing heavily to account for my shock, I stared at his neck. Yes, I'd cut him. How the hell had he cut me, too? No—wait…

We were Mirror images.

I stole a glance at his side to confirm that the place he'd cut me earlier bore a mark on him as well. The back of his head was probably bruised.

He grinned when he saw that I understood. Leaning in to speak directly into my ear again, he growled out, "Now do you understand? The more you fight, the weaker you become. You cannot defeat me. There is no more conquest for you, soldier, no more until the day you surrender.

"You see, surrendering now will be a victory for you in the long run. Give in, human. Go to sleep, let me take over and I'll take all that stinging human pain away.

"If you let me win, you see," he continued, sliding one finger along the cut on my collar, creating a sting, "then you will know what it means to have power."

"I don't want power," I argued. "I just want life."

"Oh, and life you shall have. And lives you shall claim."

"I'm not a killer like you!" I shouted. "I've changed! I'll keep changing until—"

"Silence," my reflection commanded. "Inside you is desire. Listen to it. It isn't love, human, it's bloodlust."

I growled and shoved him off of me. "You have no idea what you're talking about," I snapped. "And you know something? I don't think you'd keep on addressing me as 'human' unless you didn't get a little pleasure out of the sound of that word!"

The Commander reeled, incensed.

I'd done it.

I'd broken through to something.

Now or never, I told myself. For this brief moment, we were almost on equal ground. My fists tightened around my _sairedon._

"Come on," I challenged my past. "Tell me I can't have dreams. Tell me I can't have goals. Tell me I can't fall in love. All you're doing is giving up on those things yourself."

"I need no—"

"You need just as much as anyone," I said. "Must be lonely in the Mirror."

"Shut _up,_ human!"

I grinned, and he bucked back, angered at having been driven to speaking the word again.

He did have fear inside him.

All I had to do was finish calling it out.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Notes:**

Into battle they all go! :3 I'm a total sucker for fight scenes, so be assured that quite a few are on their way, haha…

I do want to make the note that in this chapter, I did quote from/allude to/paraphrase the unaired/un-recorded episode _The Trial_. (If you've not read it, I'm sure it's still floating around; it was _such_ a clever episode… I just took a few liberties. ^^)

Next week is going to be another Bonus Histories chapter, and then after that, we'll dive into a nice lengthy Gaz chapter which will bring us to the _Massive_ and the main fight…

Thank you so so so so incredibly much for sticking with the _Saga!_ I hope you enjoy the chapters to come, I'm really excited to start posting. See you again next **Friday, July 6****th****!** :3

~Jizena

– – –


	3. Bonus Histories 3: Punishment

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Today is a 'Bonus Histories' week… and it's a pretty long one, so do bear with me~ ^^ This is the last of the 'Bonus Histories' chapters; we've already peeked into Miyuki's past a little, as well as Membrane's. I considered shortening this, since it's kind of a story to itself, but in the end decided that it wouldn't flow right any shorter (I have problems being concise, haha…).

So rather than have to give some background info in the A/N, hopefully everything will be explained within this chapter. ^^

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Ira's Records_

There is a saying, quite popular in the Murasaki family, that has been with me all my life: _Make your own good fortune._

Born into a cursed family, a man does what he must to keep himself optimistic. My father was a beacon of this to me—bankrupt at the age of twenty-seven, he had to rebuild the hotel business he had inherited from his mother's side of the family from nothing. Financial trouble followed him for twelve years, but he was a fighter, and pushed forward. Despite his troubles, my mother's family was understanding of his difficulties, and helped whenever possible.

Our first home, in the seventies, I remember very vaguely; my older brother, Kazuo, would remember much better than I—the small apartment tucked away on a hill. My father was not the kind of man to complain about our close quarters, but to ask his wife and children to admire the view of the ocean that we had from our kitchen window. Perhaps my father acted this way due to how cold his own father had become after living through the twelve years of his curse, back in the second World War, so my brother and I were fortunate to have a better role model for the hard times we knew were ahead.

By all accounts, I should have been born a girl. I was the first instance of a second son in the Murasaki family. From the beginning, when the first of our ancestors had received the curse—twelve years of misfortune and the mark of an outsider: the now genetic purple eyes and strands of hair every man in the family had—there were two children. One son, first, and one daughter, second.

My mother was from a much different family. Of slight Russian descent on her grandmother's side, every woman in her family bore a more Western-inspired name… hers was Erika, her sisters were Natasha, Inga and Emma. With the shock my parents understandably went through when their second child turned out to be male, she chose an androgynous western name for me.

She named me Ira. My hair grew long like hers and I was often mistaken for a girl, even by my own paternal grandfather, who truly knew better, given just how much the purple showed in my hair. I was envious of my brother for a while, of the way that he could sometimes keep the purple strands above his right ear hidden, but I was a hero to my little sister, Kairi, who would make up songs for me as she tied ribbons into my hair about how I was the lucky second son, and I broke the curse.

_Ira Murasaki broke the curse! Kazuo's son will be a curse-breaker, too!_

Kairi's optimism fueled me further. Though I was a rather quiet child, I took her praises to heart, especially when my father's luck began turning around. Kazuo was thirteen, I was ten, and Kairi was three when the hotel business picked up and we were able to move.

As I grew up, I stopped believing that our family even had a curse. It was all in the heads of our superstitious ancestors, I said. There was no such thing as the paranormal. No such thing as curses or demons or aliens. I was a person who liked facts. I buried myself in schoolwork and thought little of what might happen to me when I turned twenty-seven. Such a random age, anyway, I told myself. In all of the fairy tales, it's a more well-rounded number. Twenty-seven? Ridiculous.

My mother's older sister, Natasha, was a professor of molecular biology. I adored her—she took me on nature walks and taught me more than I learned in school; she gave me books upon books about genetics and biochemistry that simply fascinated me. Maybe I couldn't explain why the men (the y-chromosome) in my family were 'cursed' and the women weren't, maybe I couldn't explain what kind of pigment mutation had caused the purple in my eyes, but I could understand other people's genetic codes… and so, at thirteen, when I entered high school after insisting upon pushing myself to attend early and passing the tests, I decided that I wanted to be a doctor.

Prospects were good. My brother would be going to school for business management, to continue running our father's hotels, and I was free to choose not only my field of study, but the country in which I wanted to pursue that goal. Having a Western name was enough inspiration for me to want to learn English (oh, I had tried to learn Russian to impress my maternal grandparents, but it proved too difficult to keep up with), and I had picked up plenty from the English and American guests at the hotel in which the three of us were expected to work at least a little. I wanted to study in one of those countries.

More than anything, Harvard. The history, the prestige, the opportunity—it was too enticing. Studying side by side with my aunt Natasha, who spoke beautiful English herself, I was accepted, and given a scholarship to cover the cost of my air travel. My little sister, nine now, danced around the house when my letter came, trying to make up songs in English about the good fortune I had made for myself.

My grandfather was unimpressed, but my father and brother were wholly supportive of my decision to go abroad. When I left for my freshman year, my father gave me a copy of the first English book he had ever read, _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,_ with a note inside—very purposefully written on paper bearing his hotel's letterhead—that bore our family's saying.

_Make your own good fortune, Ira,_ the note read. And below, in much smaller script, _I cannot alter the things that you believe, but it is my own belief that you are the sign that our family has broken its curse._

I decided to take his aside as a compliment, and thought no more of curses as I made my way toward a medical profession. Facts. Hard-proven reality. Genetics were genetics. There were imperfections and mutations, and advancements to repair internal damages, but there were no curses. There was no way such an abnormality could be; everything could be explained.

– – –

Which was exactly _not at all_ what one of the first friends I made in Massachusetts believed. Not in the least.

In mid-August, prior to the beginning of the semester, I had taken a book I needed to read for one of my history classes into Boston, to sit outside the steps of Faneul Hall and immerse myself in the very subject I needed to study. It was very exciting: I had never thought much about the American Revolution, or much about the American history of wars and the formation of that young country, so being at Harvard, living in Cambridge, surrounded by memories and battlescars of a history so different from my own was fascinating.

"Thomas Paine, huh?"

I glanced up when I heard the low voice read off the author of my book. I held the cover up to show the young man who had spoken that he was correct, and I nodded kindly, and glanced back at the page so that I could at the very least bookmark my place. I had wanted to get a good head-start on reading things for my classes, since comprehending so much in English at once was going to be a bit of a challenge for a while.

"Why're you reading that stuffy _Common Sense_ thing?" the young man laughed, all of a sudden taking a seat beside me. "Aren't you on summer break?"

I noticed that he, too, was holding a book, but I could not see the title. I didn't understand why Americans couldn't just begin conversations with, _"Hello."_ No, they sat right down beside you and made fun of your choice in literature. This person did, anyway. I was hoping to have better luck on campus with finding friends.

"You are reading, too," I noted. Contractions were still difficult for me to think of right off when holding English conversation, and though I tried to say _you're_ whenever I could, sometimes both words would come out.

My sudden guest grinned and held up his novel. "Jules Verne," he said proudly. "Which they _should_ assign in schools, but don't."

"Jules Verne?" I laughed. "Fantasy."

"Science," he corrected.

"Science fantasy, then," I said, turning back to _Common Sense._

"Oh, they _call_ it 'science fiction,' but this stuff is actually brilliant. And have you ever read _Jekyll and Hyde?_ Just _thinking_ about that kind of chemistry is—"

"Impossible," I said through grated teeth, getting annoyed at this person's persistence, "because it is _fantasy."_

"You're wound up pretty tight for a high schooler."

Now fully annoyed, I set down my book and dug into my pocket for my wallet, out of which I pulled my student identification card. "Maybe I am sixteen," I said proudly, "but I am a college student. I have just moved here from Japan, and I need to finish this book before my class starts. I do not read in English very fast, so it would be kind if you could let me finish, please."

The other laughed again. "Well, you argue like an American already."

I rolled my eyes. "Wonderful," I muttered.

"Hey, no hard feelings, sorry… uh… Ira," the young man read off of my ID. The only other people in the United States I had heard speak my name thus far had done so after I had introduced myself, keeping with the pronunciation of my name I had grown up with: _EE-ra._ Short _i._ He pronounced it with a long _i: EYE-ra._ The conversation was getting stranger.

"That is not my name," I said, confused.

"Sure it is, it says so on your card." My conversation partner's black eyebrows furrowed in his own confusion, and he squinched his mouth up a bit; both actions skewed his glasses somewhat. "Unless that other part's your name. Mur… uh…"

"No, my name is _Ira,"_ I corrected, pronouncing it the way I was used to.

"Oh." Another laugh. "Well, just a warning, people over here are gonna see your name and think to say the long _I,_ man, sorry."

I merely sighed, and tucked my wallet away. "As long as we have found ourselves talking," I said, "what is your name?"

"Charles. Charles Mansfield, but don't remember that last part, I'm thinking about changing my name pretty soon."

We shook hands, which was the first civil thing I felt that Charles had done since he began talking to me, and I managed to smile. Strange or not, perhaps I had made an acquaintance already. "Nice to meet you."

"Same. I'm going to MIT this fall, so I might run into you," Charles said. "Oh, hey, so you're reading _Common Sense,_ right? They've got you into American history at Harvard?"

"I chose the class," I corrected. "For my history requirement."

"You wanna get some brief history from someone who grew up here?"

"I'm guessing that's you?" Oh, I used two contractions! I set down my book, hoping he would say he had family in the museum business or something interesting along those lines.

"Yup. I'm used to playing tour guide. My girlfriend's from Finland." Charles paused for a second, then ticked his head up and waved over a young woman carrying a couple of shopping bags. "Speak of the devil. Hey, Miyuki!"

I perked up at the mention of a Japanese name, and took special note of the fact that the young woman had long, lilac-purple hair. My heart skipped—and only marginally because my hormonal teenage self found her quite attractive—as I wondered if my coming here and happening to meet a woman with a similar genetic imperfection to my own was… well, I did not really believe in fate, but perhaps this was meant to happen, all the same. "Making friends, Charles?" she asked upon approaching, her voice bouncing with a hint of an accent I could not place.

"Yup. Miyuki, this is Ira Can't-pronounce-or-remember-his-last-name; Ira, this is my girlfriend, Miyuki Isomäki… I can _kind of _pronounce her last name."

Miyuki laughed. "You're improving," she said, leaning down to kiss Charles on the cheek. "Lovely to meet you, Ira."

"You, too," I said with a slight nod.

"Are you busy? Come walk the Freedom Trail with us!"

Despite not knowing either of the two for more than a few minutes, I knew that they were well-intentioned, and I took them up on the offer. Miyuki stopped by a little car to leave her shopping bags, and the two of them took me on a personalized walking tour of the historic sites of the town. It was a delightful way to become fully immersed in my new country; this was something I would need to write home about, I kept on telling myself, as I took detailed mental notes, and picked up the Japanese translations of free pamphlets outside of the historic sites when I could, to send back to my parents and sister.

As evening loomed overhead, however, Charles got an interesting glint in his eye, and said, "All right, Ira, you can choose to participate or not… I mean, you did say Jules Verne was fantasy."

"Because Jules Verne _did_ write fantasy," I insisted.

"But please tell me you'd be fine with a ghost hunt."

I burst out laughing. I honestly thought that he was joking. Here he was, an intelligent person, a rising MIT freshman with a keen eye for physics and chemistry, as I had learned throughout the day, believing that he might catch something on a silly little ghost hunt. The cemeteries in Boston were interesting, I granted them that, with their beautiful gravestone art and picturesque chapels, but _ghosts?_ Of what, of whom? America was too young for ghost stories, anyway.

"I… guess that's a no," Charles deduced.

"I don't exactly believe in supernatural things like that," I said. "A ghost hunt, really?"

"Oh, come on!" Charles said in his defense. "Japan has _all kinds_ of ghost stories."

"Yes, Charles, _stories,"_ I insisted. "Stories upon stories, but I have had no experiences myself. I do not believe in ghosts."

"You shouldn't say that. How about vampires?"

"You're joking."

"Aliens."

"Please, stop."

"Charles, if someone does not believe, that's fine," said Miyuki, who did look slightly saddened by my proclamation that I did not believe in aliens, though I could not imagine why. "Ira, I hope that this does not turn you off from wanting to keep in touch."

"No, no, not at all," I said. "I'm glad to have met you two, I just… think that ghosts and such are not…"

"It's fine," Charles said. "Not everybody has to believe. Yet. I'm working on that."

I would not learn what he meant by that for another couple of years yet, but the three of us remained friends. I would leave the conversation if things turned to talks of the paranormal; I just could not understand why they found that stuff so fascinating. When the three of us ended up on the same year abroad trip to study at Oxford, in England, the paranormal talk even increased somewhat when we met a bright Oxford student by the name of Victor Haynsworth.

He seemed even more put-together academically than Charles and Miyuki, but had his own secret affinity for studying vampire lore. I began to feel like the odd one out, especially as talk of that sort of thing persisted.

We stayed in touch with Victor long after we had all graduated. In my graduation year, I chose, after many nearly heartbreaking calls home, to apply for American citizenship. I had been offered a position at a hospital in upstate New York, and needed to follow my path. My parents flew over for my graduation, as did my siblings and my aunt Natasha, who gave me more books as a gift and as inspiration in my upcoming career.

An odd twist of fate—or what have you—found Charles and Miyuki moving to the same town, and we had long since accepted that our lives would always be more or less intertwined.

– – –

1986, the year after we graduated, was the beginning of, I suppose I could say, the end. It was the year Charles founded the Swollen Eyeball Network. He named it such to spite me, and I knew it: after showing me an odd invention of his—goggles that could switch modes to x-ray and infra-red—I had laughed and commented that the exposure from the lenses would leave his eyes swollen.

And that idiot had gone and slapped that onto the name of his paranormal organization. Named inadvertently by his one friend who still refused to believe in the things Charles still wanted to study.

Despite my chidings, Charles—now Charles Membrane—and Miyuki, now married (partly in the interest of letting Miyuki stay in the States rather than have to return to Finland), had gathered a group of scientists, technicians, chemists and general believers into the Network, which already had one branch overseas, thanks to Victor's involvement in England.

I took no part in it, no, but we remained very good friends. We would meet up here and there, and all took a trip to England again in 1988, to congratulate Victor and his wife at the time, Amelia, on the birth of their daughter, Alexandria. We had made a pact, in school, to look out for one another's children, and thus Charles and Miyuki were named her godparents.

The sentiment was returned in 1991 when Charles and Miyuki's son, Dib, was born, with Victor being named his godfather, and just over eight months later, when I was named gofather to their daughter, Gaz.

The year Gaz was born was a fortunate one for me in all ways but one: I seemed to lose contact with my brother, Kazuo. He was twenty-seven that year… the age that all men in our family began that supposed twelve-year stretch of a curse, but I heard nothing from him nor my parents nor his wife. I assumed, of course, that he must have been busy, and wrote to him when I thought of it.

The fortune continued when someone new entered my life. Entered, and never, ever left.

She came to the hospital one afternoon in late spring, hoping, so it was introduced, to interview someone in the pediatrics ward about a new donation that had come through from someone on the faculty at her school. I had the time, so I agreed to speak with her, since I had seen to some of the paperwork.

In a conference room, I was introduced to a sweet and intelligent-looking young woman, who wore her curly brown hair down and long enough to brush past her shoulders. (My own hair, at the time, had grown quite long; I kept it braided and up at work at all times.) She dressed in greys, which matched her eyes, and looked highly professional for a girl in a college course. "Hi," she said, standing when I entered the rectangular blue room. "My name is Lisa. You must be Dr. Murasaki."

"I am," I smiled, pleased with how easily she was able to rattle off my name, when some of my co-workers struggled. "Pleasure to meet you, Lisa."

It was an assignment, the young woman said, for her journalism class at the local college. The dedication and enthusiasm with which she spoke delighted me; I had never held conversation with anyone quite so passionate about an assignment. As conversation wore on, we began to veer off, onto different subjects, ultimately ending in my request to take her to dinner.

"It was a lovely interview," I said in defense of my offer. "I'd like to thank you for it."

She agreed, but to the following evening. I brought her to a fine, small restaurant, at which we continued conversation, leading up to her asking me about my choice to go into pediatrics, and me asking her all manner of things involving her interests in journalism. "And of course," she laughed at one point, "it's my goal to report on something huge. Have you heard of that… what's it called, a weird name, but—Swollen Eyeball?"

I laughed. "Friends of mine are involved," I told her. "It's kind of silly."

"No, no, I'm sure it's not," Lisa smiled. Ticking her head to the side pernitiously, she asked, "Do you believe in the paranormal, Dr. Murasaki?"

"You can call me Ira," I told her, having long since given over to the American pronunciation of my name. "And… no. Though among my friends I feel kind of singled out because of that. Do you?"

"I'm not sure. Do you ever want to, though?"

"Believe in lake monsters and aliens?" I asked, showing my doubt.

"All right, that does sound kind of silly."

We met again, under the pretense of a follow-up interview, and again for another dinner, this time not hiding the fact that we both rather wanted to call it a date. I learned by our fourth date together that, despite taking one class at the local college, Lisa was only now a junior in high school… which deterred me, for a while, from wanting to see her. She was sixteen; I was twenty-four. I'd not been in a relationship for a while, and did not want any strange accusations coming my way after being single for so long.

In the end, however, we simply decided that it would be ridiculous to stop talking to one another just because of an eight-year age gap. Her intelligence far exeeded her grade, besides: I encouraged her to apply early to colleges, as I had entered at a young age, and she did consider the option.

We shared several interests when it came to arts and history, and enjoyed a good fight here and there about some of our differing tastes in things like literature and design—she adored the pastels of the Rococo, while I prefered things much more subtle and reserved. One thing we could always agree on, however, was our tea. Lisa seemed to always, always carry at least a hint, whether in taste or misty scent, of white lilly and jasmine. I craved her company, and she craved mine.

Her parents were not fond of me (due entirely to my age and overlooking not only my work but my best intentions for their daughter), but we continued dating. I adored her, admired her, found myself needing to talk to her… and eventually to hold her, to kiss her, to keep her beside me at all times. We were steady and serious by the end of the year.

Charles called us annoying. Too intellectual. I threw insults right back at the fact that he and Miyuki were idiot geniuses, and were probably raising two more. Things seemed to often get in the way of Lisa seeing much of them and the kids, but my girlfriend and I were happy with the company that we kept on our own.

Things escalated, as relationships tend to do. Lisa's parents began to take their dislike of me out on her, and after we had been together a year, I asked her to move in with me, since it was only a matter of time until her parents asked her to leave. I could support the two of us for now, we knew, but Lisa was aware that college might have to wait.

She did not care. We had developed that need for one another that neither of us could shake. After two years together, we had more or less made a home. I was able to, with a raise in my position and pay, move from the apartment to a small house; Lisa came with me. We decorated together; we adopted a small white cat we named Yumiko. Things were looking up.

Then, in mid-January of 1995, the earthquake hit.

I was crushed when I heard the news of the destruction that had ripped through my hometown of Kobe. My mother called me in tears on January twentieth to inform me that her sister, my favorite aunt, Natasha, was among those unaccounted for. Two days later, it was reported that both Natasha and her husband had died in the quake in nearby Nishinomiya.

I almost left. For good.

When I did, however, Lisa insisted upon coming with me, so I knew that this would only be a trip there and back. I scraped together money that I had saved for an extra ticket for her, and the two of us spent much of February helping my parents and my sister pick up my father's business from the damage. Kazuo was in Tokyo at the time, with his wife, and my mother filled silence at times with her hopes that news of the quake had not disturbed Yuzuki's final trimester, and that she would go into labor soon. "All I want is a healthy grandchild," my mother repeated at least ten times.

My father's business was sure to take a dive, but I reminded him that his hotel line had branches in the north that could still thrive, that Kazuo and Kairi could take care of things there. He insisted, however, that I return to America, before I could even consider offering to stay longer.

"Your life is there," my father told me. "Your work is there. I hope to hear soon that this lovely young woman will be your wife."

"Thank you," I told him respectfully. "Please let me know if I can help you in any way, though. Please. Lisa and I want to help."

"For your mother's sake, then," my father decided, "continue the work that your aunt inspired you to do. Natasha was a fine pediatrician, and I am sure you are, as well."

I thought about Gaz and Dib, and realized that there was no way I could leave my goddaughter for an uncertain life in my broken hometown. Lisa and I stayed for two weeks, to clean house and volunteer to make grocery and water trips for the neighbors. Before we left, my younger sister hugged me tightly, and told me to live well. "I hope to be in America, soon, too," she told me. "I want to go to school in New York City."

"You can do whatever you want to, Kairi," I said. "Tell me if you do plan to come, you can always stay with us for a while."

"Please do," Lisa added. She had understood enough Japanese to contribute to little conversations like that one, and my parents knew plenty of English through the hotel business for my girlfriend to not feel out of place.

A week after we returned home, two boxes arrived at our door. They were books from my aunt Natasha's library. A note was tucked into one volume in my mother's writing: _Ira—Please take these books for your own studies. Your aunt wanted you to have them. One is addressed to you. I hope these find you well._

It was a hard transition, but I perservered. _Make your own good fortune._

I would be turning twenty-seven that year. I still did not believe in fated ill-fortune or curses, but a part of me wanted to take precautions. Wanted to move on to the next step and assure myself and Lisa a good life.

Not being a leap year, Lisa and I celebrated my birthday on February twenty-eighth instead, and one month later, I proposed. I sat with a mug of tea on the faux-leather sofa Lisa had chosen for the living room of the house, with my girlfriend pressed up against my side. We spoke a little about the earthquake repair, I expressed my concern for still having had no direct contact with my brother in three years, and Lisa began talking about truly making a home.

"I want to learn Japanese lullabies," she told me, almost at random, as conversation shifted.

"What for?" I baited her, kissing her curls.

"To sing to our kids."

"Planning that far ahead, are we?" I laughed. Lisa hummed, and nestled against me. The rain beat down hard against the house, and together we fell into a lull of nothing but the sound of the rain. Yumiko stretched out on the small table in front of us, batting at imaginary mice and waking from her kitten dreams every few seconds in order to wash a paw.

It was small, but this house was a start. The location did not matter. With Lisa, I was home. As the rain began to soften its downpour, I stroked back my girlfriend's hair, and placed a kiss on her forehead. Then, alight with my decision to do so, I whispered, "Let's elope."

Lisa shifted to look up at me, her grey eyes wide with awe. "Ira!" she gasped.

"Lisa, I love you," I told her, holding her face close to mine, "and I want to marry you."

"My parents—"

"Then let's elope." I kissed her, hard, and Lisa grabbed onto me as she returned it fully. "We could have a ceremony some other time. Or we could go do a ceremony in Kobe. Lisa, I don't care."

"Neither do I," she said, short of breath. "Oh, God, Ira, yes, let's just do it. Let's do that, we have to."

"Yeah?"

"Honey, I want to marry you. Name and all."

_Lisa Murasaki_ did have a lovely ring to it.

It was decided, that rainy night. We would elope. Have all of the documents signed, have our union legalized. We'd be married by the state and take care of the 'wedding' part of things later.

– – –

That was the plan. We took more time to talk out details, and decided to make things official on May first, at a time when I could have time off to take her on something of a honeymoon. Plans changed for good, however, on Gaz's third birthday.

Miyuki and Charles stopped by with the kids to visit me at work, and in the pediatrics lobby, I greeted my goddaughter with a hug, once she had gotten over a little shy spell with some help from her brother, and gave her a black ribbon to tie up her hair. "Here, Gaz," I said, smoothing back her violet hair. I never had gotten from Miyuki exactly why she had purple hair, or how she had passed the trait to Gaz, but I held out hope that I would eventually learn. "Do you know where this ribbon came from?"

"You," Gaz said straightforwardly, pointing her small finger directly at me.

I laughed. "Well, that's true, but before that, it came from Japan, where my sister lives, where I'm from."

"That's cool," said her older brother, who stood close by to watch over Gaz in his protective way. "Know what else is in Japan? _Kappa!_ I learned that from Mom's book."

"Dib, dear, maybe another time we can talk about _kappa,"_ Miyuki warned, giving me a nervous look, knowing of my disinterest in even the simplest folklore.

"But _kappa_ and _tengu_ and all sorts of monsters live in Japan!" Dib insisted.

Gaz covered her ears, done with the conversation.

"Dr. Murasaki?" One of the attendants at the desk behind me in the lobby waved me over, indicating to the white phone she held up with one hand. "Call from home for you, it's your fiancée."

I grinned, simply from hearing that word, and stood, telling the family I'd return in a moment. Charles gave me a slap on the shoulder in congratulations as I left for the desk. Lisa had called only to ask about our upcoming travel plans, since the day was coming up fast. "Did we make the decision yet? Driving, taking the train…?"

"Oh, let's drive," I decided. "No need for tickets or hassle."

"I love it! Thank you, Ira. See you tonight."

"See you tonight, Lisa," I returned. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

When I returned to Charles and Miyuki, the kids were playing with blocks from a basket of toys we kept beside a row of chairs, and my friends were talking about something much more disturbing than monsters of regional folklore.

"I'm just getting nervous, that's all," Miyuki was saying on a sub-tone, pressed up to her husband as if afraid she'd fall far away from him if they separated even a little. "The Irkens move in very odd ways, Charles, and there's a glow to the Mirror's glass, haven't you noticed? They've found me."

"Don't talk like that," Charles insisted. "And at least not here, sweetheart, please."

"I don't know what to do. Suppose they find me? Suppose they find _you?"_

"Can we please save this for home?" Charles asked her. "I mean—"

"What on Earth are you talking about?" I wondered, stepping up to them.

Miyuki gasped, and Charles pressed his lips tightly together with concern and slight embarrassment. "And what are 'the Irkens?'" I continued, glaring between the two of them. "Don't tell me this has something to do with—"

"Ira," Miyuki said, looking pale and frightened. She reached forward and placed her long-fingered hands on my shoulders, and bent a bit to look me directly in the eyes. "Ira, forget you heard anything."

"No," I insisted. "Look, if this is another one of your ghost hunts, guys, this is getting ridiculous."

"Not ghosts this time," Charles commented.

"You know, I don't really care what it is or they are or anything," I admitted. "You're really bringing your kids up like this?"

"It's my _work,_ Ira, it's real, no matter what you believe," Charles insisted.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry," I said, "I'm not of a like mind with you, here, but—"

"Just promise," Miyuki repeated, shaking my shoulders, "you'll repeat nothing you heard!"

"Miyuki, please," I tried, looking up at her, confused. The pale sadness on Miyuki's face did nothing to help me understand the situation. I knew from years past that she could be overdramatic, but this was the first time she had ever seemed deadly serious. "The Irkens, that's all I heard," I told her calmly. "That word, and something about a mirror. Miyuki, why are you saying these things? Are you trying to scare your children?"

"No, no... no, Ira, please forget everything you've just heard," Miyuki pleaded. "It's dangerous enough that Charles knows. If Red found out that you knew as well, why I'd—"

"Miyuki," I said harshly, "you're getting hysterical. If something is troubling you, by all means, give me a call tomorrow, I can help you. But you're carrying on as though the end of the world were upon us."

Miyuki backed away, but then took my hands in her own. "It very well could be," she said gravely.

"That's enough," I said, almost snapping. I made her drop her hands, and Charles drew Miyuki back toward him. "I'm sorry, that's my limit. I don't want to get in a fight with you, I wouldn't want to mar the day." With that, I turned to where Gaz and Dib were playing; Dib was constructing entire cities of blocks, while Gaz had found a toy horse and was making it rampage through the cities, toppling every last block her brother had stacked. He didn't seem to mind. "Gaz?" I said, softening my tone.

"Hi, Dr. Murasaki," said the little girl, waving up at me.

"Gaz, dear, I need to go back to work now, but I hope you have a wonderful birthday," I told her, scooping her into another hug.

"Okay."

"And Dib, keep looking out for her, all right?" I said, messing with the boy's black hair. "You're doing a great job as a big brother."

"Thanks, Dr. Murasaki," he said. "I will."

Though the remainder of my day at work was relatively uneventful, Miyuki's hysterics still bothered me. I made a note to call later, to see if she was all right. Perhaps I'd call Victor. Despite his paranormal leanings, he was far more rational when it came to discussing things of that nature… nearly to the point that I could believe him when the subject came up in conversation. Victor was a more passive paranormal historian; Charles and Miyuki were the more aggressive scientists and inventors.

I rolled her words and her warning through my head as day gave way to evening. _Irkens._ I'd never heard either of those two speak that word before; it wasn't commonplace like ghosts or werewolves or yetis. Whatever it was, it had to be nonsense. And a mirror? I thought all of those fairy story things had no reflections; what good was a mirror?

I called Lisa as I was leaving for the night, changed my clothes, and left just as the sun was sinking down behind our modest city skyline. Taking my usual shortcut through the park, I came out onto the street that would lead me home to find headlights glaring at me. Someone must have forgotten to turn their brights off, I figured, and continued walking.

The headlights followed me. Slowly. I shook my head, and occupied myself by un-braiding my hair. Lisa would probably braid and un-braid it again later; she adored my long hair, she told me it made me look dignified. It went past the small of my back, now, the way my mother wore it. So perhaps my two best friends still made jokes that I looked like a woman sometimes; I knew they meant well, and I did not care about those innocent jokes.

As I was re-tying my hair, the headlights went abruptly out. When I set the knot in place in the ribbon I wore, I realized that no other lights were on around me. Strange, considering that the street was lined on both sides with large lamp posts, and that lights from buildings nearby could usually be seen. I saw nothing, as if something was obstructing their light.

A bit frightened, I drew in a shaky breath and pressed on.

The headlights re-appeared directly ahead of me. I let out a yelp and stumbled, startled.

I never found my footing, for the next thing I knew, a blow to the back of my head knocked me unconscious.

Several hours later, I was lying on a cold, black tiled floor. My hands were bound with a strangely-braided rope, and I could tell, after a moment of breathing myself back into consciousness, that my arms, shoulders and legs had been dealt blows and were most likely brused or scraped.

When I tried to sit up I immediately fell back down. The law of gravity itself seemed to have shifted, and besides, I felt drained. Finally, I managed to roll onto my back, taking heavy breaths as I surveyed my surroundings. A cell? I was in a cell? Cold, reddish-grey walls surrounded me, but the bars were strange. The bars glowed blue, made of something that was not metal or even earthly in nature.

I stared at my wrists. Bound. Bound, really? How had that happened? I racked my brain but could not remember a thing. The back of my head stung where I had been hit, and my eyes still burned spots into my vision from the awful glare of those headlights.

They were headlights, weren't they?

Panicking, I brought my hands up and began working the knot on the restraint with my teeth, finding the knot easily in the dim blue glow of the room. I had just freed myself when the ceiling lights came on to cast a whiter sheen on the tiles, and two sets of footsteps approached. They sounded like the footsteps of children, as far as the strides went, but the impact was heavier and more determined.

I closed my eyes almost involuntarily, as if that would shut off the world, and when I opened my eyes again everything would just have been a nightmare. I'd shake it off, make tea, and discuss more important things with Lisa. I drowned out the sound of the footsteps and found myself almost smiling, thinking of where I'd rather be.

"Get up, you!" an unfamiliar voice barked, forcing me to gasp and open my eyes. I turned to see who had spoken, and felt a scream of terror stick in my throat.

I sat up quickly and backed up as far as I could, until I was pressed firmly against a cold metal wall. Dizzy from my sudden movement, I stared through the electric bars of the cell at two creatures that were not human. In fact, they were not recognizable at all as anything that had ever graced the planet Earth. A nightmare. This had to be a nightmare. Charles and Miyuki had gotten to me. They'd been talking about aliens, and lo and behold, had me dreaming about the darned things. I chose not to associate with the creatures at all, but couldn't keep my eyes off of them. Both of them looked alike, aside from the fact that one had red eyes, and the other had green. For figments of imagination, they were incredibly detailed.

"Damn it all, it broke out," the red-eyed one grumbled, glaring contemptuously at me.

"Your bonds suck, you know that," the other chided. I continud staring. They spoke English. Nightmare, nightmare, nightmare… "You," the green-eyed creature went on, speaking directly to me now in a harsh tone of voice. "You're a human, yeah? We got it right?"

"Like the thing could even answer," muttered his partner. "Dumb beasts probably don't even know the universal language." He turned and smirked at me, then said darkly, "Just wait till the Tallest gets his hands on you. You'll be dead in a day for hiding Miyuki."

"Miyuki..?" I whispered, words suddenly coming back to me. The creatures seemed quite alarmed that I'd spoken, and the red-eyed one stumbled back. Now, I was usually very tactful, and had those two been human I very well could have talked my way out of this strange situation very smoothly. Under such circumstances, however, all I could think to do was lie. "I... don't know anyone called Miyuki."

The green-eyed creature punched his partner. "You see? He speaks the universal language, you idiot."

"Shut up," the other snapped. All of a sudden, metal spider legs appeared from the pod on his back, and I tried to back up further. "Say you know nothing of Miyuki? What a joke. You wouldn't be here if you didn't!" The metal legs began to glow as red as the creature's eyes, and I just barely dodged what I quickly identified as a laser blast that was shot straight at me. "Try to insult the Irken race?" my attacker went on, retracting the appendages.

"You?" I cried, my eyes widening in shock and fear. _It was true..?_ "You're... the Irkens?"

"See? You do know."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I pinched myself, and cried out from the pain. I was not asleep, this was not a nightmare. It was real. Everything was real. All my life I'd dedicated my efforts to honest, medical science, and within a night had discovered not only that everything Miyuki had spoken of was true, but that I was now in the middle of something that I could not hope to understand.

Just when I believed the situation couldn't get any worse, the heavy door to the room was slammed open, and the Irkens stepped back, away from the cell. I looked up, shaking, and saw, there in the doorway, the shadowed outline of a being much, much taller than the other Irkens in the room, which could only mean that he was what they had referred to as…

"T-Tallest Red!" exclaimed the green-eyed Irken, saluting along with the other as the Tallest entered the room. He looked positively foreboding... cold, unfeeling. I had persuaded some difficult men before, but it seemed Tallest Red was one that could never be shaken.

"Did you bring him?" he asked the two other Irkens.

The Irkens didn't answer, but stepped to the side, allowing the Tallest plenty of room to approach and look into the cell. I held my breath and put my head down, trying to hide myself from the Irken leader, hoping to escape death, or a fate even worse.

"What is this?" the Tallest roared, turning off the electric bars of the cell and reaching down, grabbing me up by the collar. I gasped, but no sound of alarm would come out; I was far too frightened. The Tallest glared down at me, and try as I might I could find no way to hide my fear. Tallest Red studied me for a moment, then tossed me back against the wall; I collided and fell, my breath leaving me for a minute. "Idiots!" Tallest Red snapped at the other two Irkens. "Not only do you bring me a human without restraining him—"

"He broke out!" the small red-eyed Irken protested.

"That doesn't matter—you've brought me the wrong one!" Tallest Red snarled.

I perked up a bit, but didn't bring myself to sitting, not wanting to look too eager in the presence of such a powerful-looking person._ If they were wrong, _I thought,_ they'll let me go. They have to!_

"Your insolence will be noted," said Tallest Red to the other two Irkens, turning to leave. "Don't expect to be getting away easy. It will take us months to get back to that planet!"

Months? Panic struck again as I wondered just how long I had actually been gone. It felt like only a few hours, but suppose it had been days or weeks already. My thoughts turned immediately to Lisa. She'd know I'd gone missing. Would she go to Charles for help? Would he tell her about the Irkens? Did he even know that they had come? Was he safe? Was Miyuki? _The kids?_ How long would this go on?

"So... oops?" said the small, red-eyed Irken.

Tallest Red whirled around and glared down at his subordinate with eyes of fire. "You're lucky I don't rip your PAK open myself!" he growled. "You two are at fault, and until I think of proper punishment, you have no right to say anything on the matter!"

"Should we let him go?" the green-eyed Irken asked the Tallest.

Tallest Red glared down at the Irken, then at me, and then turned again to leave the room. "Do whatever you want with him. He's none of my concern."

Once he'd gone, the two Irkens exchanged glances, then grinned darkly and looked over at me. A sharp chill went down my spine, and I backed away again. "Whatever we want, huh?" the green-eyed one repeated.

"What would the old Elite Commander have done?" the other added, causing his partner to laugh. The red-eyed Irken walked over to me and grabbed me by the neck. "Wanna have some fun, human?"

Before I could say anything, the small Irken struck me across the face, his fingers like claws. I was too stunned to move. I'd been trained in self-defence, but nothing at all could have prepared me for this. Over the next few minutes, the Irkens took advantage of my silence and disbelief to attack me in every manner possible, including using added weaponry from what the Tallest had called their PAKs.

After a good long beating, I finally realized that I would get nowhere by letting things happen and shakily stood, thankful that I was so much taller than my two attackers. The Irkens backed away, seeming surprised that I could muster even the slightest bit of determination when at odds with them.

Once the Irkens had shaken off what looked like fear, both rushed at me again, the red-eyed one again utilizing the spider legs, this time for height and added mobility. Taking no time to think of possible outcomes, I grabbed the Irken by the neck and swung him into the wall, then darted up to hold him there. I heard something crash, and the Irken's PAK fell in pieces to the floor, such was the intensity of the blow.

The Irken's red eyes widened, and now he truly did look frightened. "While I have your attention," I said, speaking as calmly and kindly as I could manage, "I have to ask you... why are you keeping me here? I'm begging you; I need to speak to your leader. I must convince him to release me. You don't understand—"

"Stupid human..." the Irken choked out, his eyes going dim. "You know nothing."

The other Irken rushed up behind me, and pulled me back by the hair. I cried out and dropped the red-eyed one, stumbling back. The green-eyed Irken let go and angrily shot a blast from his own spider legs, forcing me up against the other wall. As soon as I fell to the ground the electric bars reappeared.

"You must know about us," the green-eyed Irken accused, walking up slowly to the cell. The other hadn't moved a bit. "How else would you have known to kill him?"

I gasped, feeling sick as I picked myself up to speak to the Irken. M hair fell into my eyes, but I just brushed it back, letting it all fall over one shoulder. Of course I hadn't known how to kill an Irken... I didn't even know that the red-eyed Irken was dead. The very thought made my heart skip. I'd never even thought of killing anything in his life; I detested violence. And now..?

"Kill him..?" I repeated in almost a whisper, shaking my head. "N-no, I'd never... I didn't kill anyone."

"He's dead, isn't he?" the green-eyed Irken roared, pointing back at his partner. "You crushed his PAK, human, he's dead! We can't live without them; you must have known that!"

"No!" I protested. "Y-you don't understand, I'd never kill, especially not intentionally! I'm a Buddhist, it's against my religion to cause harm to any living thing..."

"You're not a Buddhist, you're a human," the Irken spat. "I don't even know what that other thing is. Stop trying to lie to us! Tallest Red's going to kill you for sure... if not for hiding Miyuki then for knowing our secrets!"

With that, he muttered something else and rushed out of the room. I glanced over at the other Irken. His PAK lay in shards beside him, and he wasn't moving at all. The core of the PAK was still attached to the Irken's back, and the insides looked like the gears of a large computer, only much more compact, highly advanced. It was broken now, and thus his body had shut down. I shivered and looked away.

All my life I'd known never to kill, and had even chosen a career that would allow me to save lives, and yet the truth remained: I'd just committed murder. But these Irkens seemed barely alive to begin with. Death seemed like nothing to them. They broke apart as easily as any computer. They weren't living things, they didn't feel or act warm and alive... they were just machines. Nothing had ever stopped me from destroying a machine. I'd never been fond of technology outside the hospital, nor had I ever agreed with anyone who had such a dim outlook on life, both of which were things the Irkens seemed to honor greatly.

"They're only machines..." I repeated to myself. "Nothing more than machines."

I sighed and contemplated what I'd done for a good few hours, hating myself for doing so, and hating the fact that, even though the Irken had technically been my enemy, there was nothing at all I could have done to help. I was a pacifist; I believed everyone had equal reason to live, even those who would rather die.

A long while later, after a few more Irkens had come in to clear the body and the computer debris away, I managed to relax a little, even though I knew now that none of the Irkens would ever want to consider letting me go free. I wondered how much time had passed on Earth, and just what Miyuki had to do with this loathsome race. Sighing, I took an extra elastic from around my wrist and tidied my hair as best he could, tying it back into a better low ponytail. It took a while, but eventually I fell asleep, fearing for my life when I did so.

Days, or what seemed to be days, dragged slowly after that. The Tallest did not come back, nor did the green-eyed Irken. An Irken who introduced herself as a 'slave drone' brought him food at one point, but it didn't settle well, so I asked her not to bring any more Irken provisions. I was lucky that the Irkens had tossed me into the cell along with the messenger bag I'd been carrying that night. Lisa was always adament about keeping snacks on my person, since sometimes my days would end up becoming much longer than anticipated, and I found an orange I hadn't eaten the day of my… abduction. It felt horrible to say. I ate slowly, trying to make the orange last a full day, not knowing when I'd get a chance to eat normal food again.

My thoughts were entirely on the people I loved. I felt numb. I would never be able to get a message to them. They would never know what happened.

Would things have been different if I'd believed…?

But I was twenty-seven years old, I realized.

In that Irken cell, I began to believe in curses.

The next day, the green-eyed Irken from before returned, this time with Tallest Red. I backed away from the Irken leader as much as I could, but still tried not to show my fear. The Tallest bent to examine me, then said in a dark tone, "You shouldn't have killed my Invader-in-Training, human. All the Empire has been learning about you."

"He can't be the one mentioned in the Prophecy, can he?" the Irken asked quietly.

"What?" the Tallest barked. "You're off your head. The Prophecy mentions nothing of a human!"

"It does mention another race, and—"

"Don't you lecture _me_ about that Miyuki-era—"

"Miyuki?" I gasped, then cupped both hands over my mouth. I'd already let slip her name before. It was better not to make myself look any more guilty. Still, I was in some ways burning to know what she had to do with the Irkens.

The Tallest raised the electric bars of the cell and hauled me up again by the collar, this time a little more gently, or so it felt. Tallest Red studied me for a moment, clearly taking in a good view of just what a human was, then said, "Tell you what, human. If you can provide us insight into your race, I'll let you live. Tell us all about your kind, and if you cooperate entirely we might let you go."

"My Tallest, is that such a good idea?" the green-eyed Irken wondered.

"Of course it's a good idea, it's mine," Tallest Red snapped. Irkens were certainly egotistical, for machines. If they were nothing but machines, though, where did their logic and reason come from? Machines have no souls; how was it possible for the seemingly organic body to function? "Will you cooperate, human?"

Suddenly, my hidden anger toward the Irkens began to overpower my fear, and I said, very clearly and firmly, "My name isn't 'human.' It's Ira."

"Could it have occurred to you that I don't care?" Tallest Red shot back quickly. "Your name means nothing to me. Will you cooperate or won't you?"

"How far are we from Earth?" I demanded.

"Insolent creature!" the Tallest shouted, throwing me against the wall. I'd already gotten used to taking such beatings, so this time my breath came back a little sooner, and I kept on my feet.

I looked over at the smaller Irken, then made a dash for it, kneeling and wrapping my right hand around the Irken's throat, placing my left hand on the PAK. "Answer my question or I'll snap this computer in two!" I warned, hoping I actually wouldn't have to go through with the threat, as lifeless and heartless as the Irkens appeared to be.

"Step away, or your punishment will be—" the Tallest tried.

"I'll do it!" I yelled, tossing my head once to get my bangs out of my right eye. "If you don't think—"

Just then, the Irken I was holding broke free, rushed to the opposite wall and grabbed a small, dagger-like weapon. Before I could stand, the Irken disappeared, only to reappear behind me and pull me into a terribly uncomfortable backbend by grabbing my hair. I cried out and grabbed at the back of my head, feeling like my neck might snap.

"My Tallest, this human is a liar and a killer and deserves to be punished!" the Irken insisted. "He's killed one of us already; suppose he takes it to mind to kill you!"

"Stand away from the prisoner," Tallest Red ordered.

I pulled up out of the backbend as best I could, but the Irken kept hold of my hair, just where the elastic tied it into place. When I had gotten almost up to sitting, the elastic remained in the Irken's hand; he'd pulled it down to just below my shoulders, and now he tugged on my hair again.

"You're wrong to think he can help us!" the Irken shouted. "Let me kill him!"

"Get back!" I shouted, lowering my head to prepare a different sort of defense.

At just that moment, the small, green-eyed creature had swung his large knife, aiming precisely for my neck. Had I not moved to disorient the Irken, I could very well have gotten myself killed. But, I realized, a few seconds after I heard the sound of the blade cutting through more than air, I wasn't altogether unscathed.

I lifted my head slowly, my hair falling over my face again, now reaching to less than a third of its former length. I gasped and sat back, choking a bit when I felt for the tips of my hair, finding they only reached to my collarbone.

I turned furiously and again grabbed the Irken by the throat. "Since when do machines become so obsessed with torture and death?" I cried, taking the dagger-like weapon and jamming it into the Irken's PAK. It short-circuited for a moment, and then the Irken fell to the floor, his eyes dimming just as the last one's had done. "Worthless... stupid machines..."

I stood slowly, trying to keep my mind off of the discomfort I felt, then turned to glare at the Tallest, and the dagger out. "Your name is Tallest Red, right?" I asked.

"It is," said the Tallest, "but I would worry about other matters if I were you; and I'm glad I'm not. You've killed two of my soldiers. Your punishment is death."

"And who's going to kill me?" I wondered, advancing on him, never taking my eyes off of my opponent's, keeping the dagger held out threateningly. "You? Why not take me home before I can kill again? I don't know anything. Nothing about why you're concerned with Miyuki. I know nothing! In reward for your returning me to Earth, I will give you my word that I will remain forever silent, concerning all matters of your race."

Tallest Red snorted, then grabbed me by the throat. I glared up at the Irken, holding the point of the dagger to just below the Tallest's chin. Both of us were now in equal danger. "I'd do better to rip out your throat," said Tallest Red. "That would keep you silent."

"But what good is a silent leader?" I returned, pressing the blade closer.

Tallest Red remained firm for a moment, then actually grinned, slowly letting go of me. I scrambled backward, still keeping the dagger held out, just in case. "You're growing on me, human," the Tallest admitted. "Unfortunately, law decrees that the crimes you've committed will condemn you to death. I'll return tomorrow to issue your punishment. Feel free to roam this room for now; step outside, however, and I'm certain you'll stop breathing."

That said, the Tallest collected the body of the fallen Irken and left the room. I quickly threw the dagger to the side and fell to my knees, screaming into my hands. I didn't understand the Irkens at all, and I knew I never would. I felt his eyes water, and didn't hold back. I was faced with everyone's greatest fear: knowing how close I was to death.

Trembling, I bent over myself, hugging my arms close to my chest, keeping my eyes closed, wanting to focus on something, anything, more pleasant than this wretched place. I remained that way for quite some time, but it was only a few hours until the Tallest returned. I looked up to see him, but just silently bent my head again, preparing for a blow.

"You do realize you killed two Irkens," Tallest Red stated flatly as the door slid closed behind him.

"I know."

"You do realize you threatened me."

"Yes."

"Everyone is expecting me to kill you."

"So do it."

There was a silence, then, and I could almost hear the whirring of the gears within the Tallest's PAK. Tallest Red paused just a moment longer, then said, softly, "I don't want to."

I lifted my head, regarding the tall Irken skeptically. "Why?" I wondered.

The Tallest cast a look over his shoulder, then, satisfied that we were alone, leaned up against the door, folding his arms. "This won't make much sense to you, being what you are, but I'm an Irken Original," he answered. "I have an additional... feeling, I suppose one could say... that no other Irken possesses. For a long time now, I've always thought to give some people second chances in situations like this. That's my problem. We're only able to really devote this feeling to one other person, Irken or otherwise, and I'm wondering if you're really worth the trouble."

My heart leapt, and I sat up straight, then stood, trying not to get my hopes too high, though it was hard not to. "You're letting me go?"

Tallest Red cast me a skeptical glance, then sighed. "I don't know. I just wanted to tell you that you might not get killed. We'll see how I feel later, after I hear what the Control Brains have issued your punishment."

That said, he pounded one hand against the door, causing it to open, then left the room, leaving me alone again. At least now there was at least a slight outlook. At least now there was a little bit of hope that I could cling onto.

Or, at least, there was, until a slew of Irkens entered about an hour later. As I looked from one to the next, I saw little similarity, assuming immediately that the organic bodies to which the computers were attached were little more than clones—being such, of course they would feel no sympathy, knowing nothing of family or relations.

"It's so wrong of our Tallest to be wanting to spare you," said one, with glaring red eyes. "You belong to such an insignificant species, and yet you dare to kill two of his promising upcoming Invaders!"

I chose not to answer, since trying to fight a battle with words against Irkens was completely pointless. None of them, aside from Tallest Red it seemed, cared at all to listen. The Irkens in the room, numbering around eight or nine, advanced on me, two quickly grabbing each of my arms. I tried to force them away, with physical retaliation, but the Irkens kept a firm hold while the red-eyed one who had spoken struck me across the face.

"Word has it the first two were given clearance to put you through torture you never actually received," added an Irken with eyes the same color as mine. She drew a small knife from her boot and quickly cut into my left forearm. "We'll just finish their work for them."

"Get away from me!" I demanded, shifting so I was down on only one knee, to kick the Irken on my left arm away. Two more rushed forward and held me down in that Irken's place, while a few more continued to attack, scratching up mostly my arms and neck.

I felt exhausted and drained by the time they were done with me. The Irkens had reactivated me cell, but even so, I wouldn't have tried to get out—it was hard to move. The cuts were insignificant enough, some almost entirely negligible, but so many things were weighing me down. It had been a while since I'd eaten anything, and my heart ached more than ever; I just wanted to return home. I almost wished I'd chosen to count the hours until the Tallest returned, but even that would have taken too much energy.

When Tallest Red finally did arrive, he just said, flatly, "The Control Brains have decided that I have to kill you."

I picked myself up, and felt my will drain as I once again stared up, now in fear, at the Tallest. At this point, I was desperate. I would try anything, if it meant I could go home. It was a shot in the dark, and I was aching, aching, aching… but I shifted onto my knees and pressed my shaking palms against the frigid floor as I went into a low bow, ready to beg like a serf for forgiveness an freedom.

"Tallest Red, you don't understand..." I began, my voice trembling. "You must consider your life to be valuable; I consider mine valuable, as well. I value all life, and I beg you, please, as the leader of your race, to find it in you to let me go. I'll never speak a word of what I saw here. I'll tell you whatever you need to know… please…"

When I looked up again, to see if I'd gotten through to him, Tallest Red's sharp eyes seemed to soften, as if, somehow, he did understand. No—sympathized. As unfeeling and harsh as the Tallest always appeared, there was something about him that made him seem almost kind, in a strange sort of way. I prayed silently that the Irken Tallest was about to spare my life.

"We're years away from your home planet," Tallest Red told me sourly. "I can't bring you back immediately, but, as expected of my leadership, I can't keep you alive here."

"Tallest Red, _please!"_ I begged again. This was the part of the horrid paranormal tale I'd found myself trapped in at which I was forgiven for my skepticism, right? I had learned my lesson; let the nightmare end.

"I'm telling you, that is not possible!" Though the Tallest had been shouting, he hung back afterward, then sighed and bent down to speak to me, in a much kinder sounding tone. "All right, human, look," he said, almost grudgingly, "if I can convince the Control Brains to change your punishment, I can let you live."

With that, he was gone again. I had no words. Even if the Tallest was able to talk to that strange council of Brains he kept on talking about, I doubted I'd survive very long. Sleep came erratically, or after getting beaten up simply for being human, and I had no water, no food, nothing. I'd dehydrate sooner or later, unless I already had and everything I saw was indeed half delusion. I doubted that the second I considered it, though. This was it. This was all.

I accepted it. I was cursed. I was the first second son of a cursed family, thought to be the one who would be the break in our lineage of misfortune. Maybe this was the payoff. I'd die at age twenty-seven, and my brother's son would not have to endure our family's mark or twelve years of struggles when he grew older. That had to be what was happening to me.

At least the last thing I had told Lisa was that I loved her. I did wish I had not shouted at Miyuki and Charles, though. And Victor—I would have liked to say goodbye to him, as well. Dib and Gaz, too… I'd never get to see them grow up. Nor would I ever be a father myself.

As I sat there in my cell, in what I was sure were my final hours, all I could think about was that I had failed. I had failed my family; I could never carry on my aunt's work. I had failed my friends; Charles, Miyuki and Victor would have no idea where I was or if I could be found, and I had owed them more than I felt I'd already given… besides, they were right. I should never have discounted the supernatural so. I had failed Lisa. Would she return to her parents? Would they even take her back? What about college? Harvard? Would she ever make it there, now?

And I had failed myself.

So began my curse.

The door slid open. I did not move. I knew that I was going to die.

"All right," the Tallest's voice ripped through the air. "Come with me."

"Why not shoot me here and get it over with?" I asked tonelessly.

"Because I'm not going to kill you."

I stared at him, not believing those words.

"Come on," Tallest Red said harshly. "We don't have long until your punishment can be carried out. The offer's only open this once; you should be lucky. You're not going to die."

"Honestly?"

"Take my hand, human."

"No," I protested, glaring up at the Tallest angrily. "I have no reason to trust any of you. Tell me what you're going to do to me."

"Take my hand or I'll have to force you. I'm giving you a second chance; you should feel honored that I'm devoting this ability to you." I didn't know what he'd meant by that at the time, but it wouldn't be long until I discovered the deeper meaning behind that phrase.

Still I hesitated, not wanting to trust a single word an Irken said. Tallest Red growled in the back of his throat and hauled me up to my feet. I stumbled a little, weaker on my feet than I had been, but as it turned out I didn't have to walk anywhere; within seconds, the Tallest had teleported me to a long corridor.

As soon as we reached that area, my lungs tensed up, and when I gasped for breath nothing came. The substance the Irkens normally breathed was thicker than the oxygen my lungs wanted, denser, impossible for a human to withstand.

I choked and stumbled again, but the Tallest caught me, leading me down the hall to a large grey door, adorned with Irken writing and the military insignia. Tallest Red activated a single spear-like appendage in his PAK and used it to press against the middle of the insignia, thus causing the writing on the door to glow blue and open, from the top down.

Tallest Red then brought me into the room, which was colder than most winter days I was accustomed to, but somehow I could breathe again. There were no lights in the room beyond the doorway, save for one small green dot at what I assumed was the far end. The room was hazy and hard to distinguish, as far as dimensions went. "Your punishment will be administered here," Tallest Red told me finally, moving away from the door, retracting the extra appendage. "I've seen to it that your... 'soul'... remains intact. This is the best I could do."

"What's going to happen to me?" I demanded, shivering again.

"We're hiding you," said the Irken, a true look of pity gleaming in his eyes. "It's the only way you can survive until we bring you back to your home planet."

"You're freezing me?"

"Too obvious. You're going to share my position."

I let out a cry of alarm that stung my throat. "You can't mean... no!" I screamed, as the door began to close upward. "Red... my Tallest... whatever you are... there must be something else. Something else you can do! I don't want to... I can't become..."

"You have to, human," the Tallest said. "There's no other way to hide you."

"Ira!" I hollered, shouting my lungs raw. "Stop being so degrading! My name is Ira!"

Just before the door shut completely, Tallest Red turned away and said, mostly to himself, "Not anymore."

When the door had shut, I let out one last long, anguished cry, then bit down, gritting my teeth together. There had to be a way out of here. "Wake up," I whispered to myself, "wake up, wake up… you were in a traffic accident, that's what those headlights were… yes… a-a traffic accident, this is a dream, this is a nightmare, this is—"

I choked, cutting my own words short. The coldness of the room no longer bothered me. It was nothing compared to what was about to happen. I looked around, trying to find a way out, but there was nowhere to go, and besies, I'd be too easily found even if I could breathe the air in the corridors.

"Human, Ira Murasaki," a voice said. I turned in the direction of the eerie small green light. The voice was that of a computer, low and biting, cold as the room itself. "You have been charged with intentional murder, accidental murder, discovery of our race while living outside Empire tracking lines, hiding Irken secrets in relation to the late Tallest Miyuki, and assault against the Irken Tallest.

"You have been found guilty of all charges. Your punishment is as follows: you are to serve, until pardoned by one of rank higher than your own, under our jurisdiction as one of the Almighty Tallest. You are to be given an Irken name, to erase all other Irkens' knowledge of your previous identity, but neither proper sight nor proper PAK capabilities will be given to you. This will be your handicap."

The air in the room became even more biting, and I could feel one of the cuts on my arm start to bleed against the awful pressure. I had no time to think about getting away anymore. After the punishment was induced, I told myself, I would find a way to end this service on my own, and return to my normal life.

All of a sudden, wires shot out at me from all sides of the room, wrapping around my arms and legs and pulling me up off the floor. One of them latched like a vice onto my back. The mist cleared a little and the glow of the green light spread farther to fill the room more completely, showing now an enormous computer that looked like a much, much larger version of the Irkens' PAKs. In the center of it was a small computer screen, which displayed a language I could make no sense of whatsoever.

The wires dug into my skin, and the computer screen gleamed ominously in the cold, dark room. Two screens glowed close by, showing what looked like statistics—two additional computers were reading and recording my DNA. The various pods on the computer began to glow as the voice asked, "Do you wish at this time to ask any questions or make any pleas?"

I struggled against the wires, then shouted, as strongly as I could, "All I did was overhear one conversation. All I heard was the word 'Irken!' For that, you have put me through hell? For being more innocent than any witness, you wanted to kill me? For just hearing one word, one simple word, you're going to turn me into one of you?"

"You killed two Irkens and assaulted another," said the computer, which could only have been one of the Control Brains. "Your penalty for this is to live among us. Additionally, you hold knowledge of the whereabouts of the late Almighty Tallest, Miyuki. Your knowledge is a valuable asset to our race; to reap this knowledge, you are to become as she was."

My eyes burned with tears, and I snapped, "What in the name of all things sacred are you talking about? Miyuki, a Tallest? That's not possible! You can't judge me for something another person did or... whatever! I don't even—haul her up here! If you want a human, ask—"

"We plan to locate her, human Ira Murasaki. That is in your best interest as well. Only she or one of her heirs can properly pardon you. Your fate has been decided."

I hung my head, but my eyes were dry. Nothing I could say would get through to any of the Irkens. Nothing I could do could free him from the Brains' punishment.

"A substandard PAK will be assigned to you, and you are to answer at all times to the name given to you," the Brain went on. "You must serve us during inevitable times of war, and should you, before pardoned, associate with anyone giving your true name, unless otherwise cleared by your partner, Red, your punishment will become more severe. Twice breaking this will result immediately in death. Is there anything else you wish to say?"

Feeling terribly sore and tired, I picked my head up again, and said, defiantly, "You will never take my soul."

"Your final words have been received," said the robotic Brain. "Begin activation of the Cabochon."

Upon saying that, the light at the other end of the room went out, the wires dropped me to the floor, and small purple lights lined what I assumed were the walls. Each of them shone a long stream of light down on me, and the chilling sensation of the air in the room became even worse. I closed my eyes and involuntarily sank down onto the floor.

The green light returned again, blinking madly, and I could faintly make out, now, the shape of its source—a tiny gem, affixed to the wires that held the central Brain into place. The two side screens went nearly static with activity, and the information darted in streams of purple light from the screens to the gem.

The Brains had read me. Now they were restructuring the information they had collected.

The change was relatively painless, due to the biting air, but I could definitely feel my bones crunch and restructure, feel my heart and lungs stop and other, foreign functions take over. Suddenly, all of the purple lights went out, and the room wasn't cold anymore. In fact, I could feel nothing regarding temperature.

From behind me, I heard the door slide open again, and a soft, normal light filled the room. As I tried to pick himself up, Tallest Red entered the room, and ran a hand against the plate of armor that now covered part of my back. He then fitted something into an empty space in the armor, and I tried to shift my position as Red moved around to where I could see him, then offered me a hand once again.

"It's unfortunate that this had to happen to you," Red said, sounding almost sincere. I took his hand, not even recognizing my own. My world was outlined in shades of purple now, though a few colors still managed to come through as well. "You got lucky though, human. I've only ever devoted this ability of mine to you."

When Red had drawn me to standing, I found that my feet weren't touching the ground, just as Red's never did. "I've given you your loaner PAK," Red explained. I shuddered when I noticed that I was now standing at the same height as the Tallest. I liked my height, despite the fact that my friends had always been taller—this increase was disturbing to say the least. "I'll teach you how to use it and how to move. Anything else, human, and you're on y—"

"My name is Ira." Upon speaking, I gasped and shut my mouth. My voice sounded higher than usual, and the inflections were strange to me.

I did not even know my own voice.

Red sighed harshly. "Tell you what," he said, sounding impatient. "I'll call you 'Ira,' since I'm the only one authorized to... unless I give you permission to use it around certain others. To everyone else, you're my partner now. Get used to it."

"What are they going to call me?" I wondered, trying to see if I couldn't make my voice sound more like it was supposed to. Nothing worked.

Red grabbed me by the arm and led me out of the room, the door sliding up behind us. Moving without walking felt terribly strange. I hated it. Outside were two other Irkens, their PAKs on their stomachs rather than their backs. "Our Advisors," Red informed me. To the Advisors, he said, "You. Identify him."

The Advisors exchanged strange glances, then shrugged and replied simultaneously, "Our Tallest."

Red slapped a hand to his forehead, disgusted, then shooed the Advisors away. "The other Irkens already identify you as my partner," he said. "Until you're pardoned, just follow me. From now until that time, your name in this Empire is 'Tallest Purple.'"

– – –

Being Irken allowed me to survive, but I despised every hour. The PAK was like a drug, altering my mood at times when I started to appear like less than what the Brains expected of me, which generally meant any show of my intelligence. To combat the drug-like qualities, I began a game of make-believe. I parroted Red's behavior, making fun of his every quirk, his every word, his every stupid obsession. The only enjoyment I had anymore came in the few retaliations against the race I could have: being authorized to beat up Invaders who weren't doing their work (the option to destroy them was there, as well), and having every chance to make Red sorry he'd ever taken me away from my life. I chided him. Scorned him. Insulted his intelligence.

But at least he had let me live. Every once in a while, when I was afraid I had gone too far, I would thank him for that.

Red, attempting to appear unfazed, would say nothing.

Home never left my mind. Not for a single conscious moment. There would be times when the PAK would make me loopy and disoriented, but for the most part, nothing could stop my mind from wandering every now and then. I had no concept of time, anymore, which was painful, but I could pretend that hardly any time was going by. That Gaz was still a little girl in ribbons. That Charles, Miyuki and Victor all were well, possibly concerned, and maybe even looking for me.

And, oh, I thought of Lisa. I prayed, every time I thought of her, that she had found her way without me, that she was living well, that she would achieve her dreams.

Perhaps there was no hope of her ever singing Japanese lullabyes now, no hope of her name being written out _Lisa Murasaki_ as she had been wishing for. But perhaps, I would think to myself, I could hear from her still. I hoped, every time Zim called with one of his ridiculous check-ins, that I might catch a news reel. That perhaps he'd send us something useful, like a newspaper. I mean, was it so much to want to know what year it was?

And I certainly did not think that it was out of the realm of possibility that Lisa had gone to school for her field. Harvard or not, she was a driven young woman.

When I finally made it back to Earth for that brief period of time, I never got to go into town, and I was made too busy to read newspapers.

Otherwise, I thought, I just might have glimpsed an article or two by the ever-inquisitive Lisa Nicolette Danvers.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

I really enjoy writing Ira, and I've missed having him present since late Part 3…

Plus, the next time we see him, he's going to be off his head a little, as he was at the end of the last part… this was a chapter of logistics, because I just like leaving no stone unturned when it comes to back stories.

Speaking of back stories, don't worry, _plennnnty _on Zim coming up! He'll narrate in another couple of chapters, but first there's a lot of ground to cover (literally) with the SEC's arrival on the _Massive… _(Part 4 is pretty literally the part in which everything is answered, and everyone's history is laid out... whee, I seriously do love writing that stuff XD)

Thank you for reading! Another super long chapter coming up next week, and this time it's right into the heart of battle. I just wanted to be able to get this one out there now while the chance was still there, before we actually saw Ira in the story again. So see you next **Friday, July 13****th****!** (Aaahhh seriously? Friday the 13th? Haha… that may or may not be a good thing…) :3

~Jizena

In response to the latest anonymous post: Many thanks for reviewing! But no, I'm not going to be writing IZ fics after the _Saga._ (As evidenced by how crazily long this chapter got, though, I will say that I do have a LOT of background stuff still on Miyuki, Charles, Ira and Victor that, if there's interest, I'd be more than happy to post as something separate. And loads more on Red, haha. I may or may not also have other stories in mind, too, but pretty much anything I'd write/post after this would be _Saga-_related, rather than a new set of circumstances… ^^)

– – –


	4. Into Battle 2: First Conquest

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

Station Nine faded into the distance; I watched it from the very edge of the Runner's only window until the sky showed nothing, then turned inward, to focus on the conversation the four of us left in the ship needed to have. I trusted Zim. I knew he would be all right. I knew that, whatever he faced, he'd be able to rise above it.

The flight to the Station had been quiet, but the entire way back to meet up again with Tenn and Skutch was a flight full of conversation about strategy. "We can't be too prepared," Dib said at one point. "We're going straight into the _Massive,_ and we might get shot at again, either in the ship, or once inside, or both."

"Main goal is still find Red?" I guessed.

Dib nodded. "Find Red, because Red'll know where the Control Brains are." Among other things.

When my brother checked in with the two other pilots, Tenn assured us that they had cleared us a path to get through to the _Massive,_ and when we arrived, I did notice that, indeed, one segment of the fleet had moved on. Directly beneath the ship, no others flew. Guess we were attacking from below.

The ship lived up to its name. Given Red's insurmountable ego, I was not surprised. Apparently, my mother had commissioned the thing, but Red had been the one to finalize the design. If its primary purpose was simply to intimidate, the damn thing did its job. A decidedly middle shade of red, the Leviathan of advanced aerodynamics could have been its own small planet. Marked, smaller—in some cases, _much_ smaller—ships flanked it on all sides, and my ears buzzed with the collective drone of the Armada's many engines.

My brother was not at all impressed. I could see him working through his next moves in his head, but that was all. Until a slightly frightened but definitely awe-stricken Lex grabbed hold of his shoulders. Dib turned to look at her, then gently set a hand over hers as he continued piloting us toward our destination.

I felt a bit lonely, in that moment, wishing I had my boyfriend beside me. My heart sank a bit, but I heard his encouraging words in my head, twisted my ring around on my finger, and held onto the hope that he would be all right. I trusted his promises.

He'd be all right. He had to be.

My father, though, was there to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I glanced back at him gratefully. I never, in my childhood, could have called what a truly momentous event it would be to know that my dad could show such a comforting smile, let alone smile at all. He looked nervous, sure, every one of us was nervous, but the fact remained that he was _there—_with us, and for us.

We really did have a pretty amazing dad.

But Dib and I both had strong attachments to our respective—and respectively ailing—godfathers, as well. Dad's greatest, closest, possibly only friends. There were a lot of missions to accomplish, and we wanted them all done as soon as possible. That much was imperative.

It all had to start here.

"All right, guys, we're landing," Dib announced. "Skutch, Tenn… you guys got a bay open?"

"Set to go," Tenn's voice came through. "Follow Skutch, he's gonna head in with you guys. My team's here for backup, and we'll ward off any ships that try to come in after you. Then we're on it as soon as you need us."

"Thanks," Dib said. "We'll let you know. And will you keep yourselves linked through to Charlotte?"

"Can do."

"Great, and Danvers is on standby to get word out to the world if need be," Dib reminded us all. "We're in a good position to start, everyone. Thanks for this."

"You guys comin', or what?" That was Skutch, more than ready to do battle with whoever or whatever crossed him first.

"Yeah." Dib turned to address the rest of us, and said, "All set?"

I nodded. "Let's just do this."

"Ready," Lex confirmed, with a positive smile.

"Then, here goes."

We followed Skutch's ship into a marked bay. The Irken military symbol loomed like a moon over us as we passed under it to pilot up into a dark, reddish-grey cargo port. Tallish—probably 5'4" at most—guards in high-collared red uniforms stood stationed at the bay doors that led out into the interior of the ship itself. I could not read the glowing Irken script over the doors, but the illuminated arrows above them were all the indication I needed to know that these doors would lead us to Tallest Red. And to our first Control Brain confrontation.

I twisted my ring around again as we landed.

And then, just like that, we were under attack.

The guards pulled guns on our ships without so much as trying to greet or reason with us, and in a flash, the door to Skutch's vehicle opened and the first wave of our army was out and armed. Shields up, we had a quick advantage.

My brother muttered a few curses under his breath, then said, "Here we go!" He kissed Lex on the cheek, patted my shoulder, and raised the windshield for us to exit through.

Dib was quick to put up a shield of energy around us, but Dad was the first to break through. With a quick flex of his fingers, his charged gloves sparked, and he sent out a massive shock wave, putting out three guards right away. Lex clicked the safety off of her crossbow, knealt beside my brother, and opened fire.

So much for diplomacy.

I considered my daggers, but if we were going to make any kind of impression, Dib had the right idea: let the Irkens know exactly who we were, and why we were there. So I took in a deep breath, read the thick air around me, and gathered energy into my hands. I nodded to Dib, then broke through his barrier and sent two blasts out at the group of guards.

Between me, Skutch, Lex and my father, we had the ten of them down in seconds without any SEC casualties. "Bleh. Thanks for the welcome, fuckers," Skutch spat down at the fallen guards.

"Sir, were we right to retaliate like that?" one of our soldiers asked Dib.

"They fired first. We're not welcome here quite yet," was my brother's answer. "Listen. We're attacking their core government. A government that has tracers in every single one of these PAKs. Gonna be few and far between that we run into anyone actually on our side."

"So we're splittin' up," Skutch continued. "We're right below the Control Brain station, right near one-a Red's transmission rooms. I'll take one crew around one side, and I need someone leading a B-team round the other."

"I'll do it," Dad volunteered. "With Lex."

"What?" she wondered.

"Actually, hon, that's probably best," Dib admitted. "Stick with my dad. Between you two, you've got the best judgment calls on how to attack and when. Gaz and I will go straight to Red."

Lex sighed. "I suppose you're right," she said. "You're the only ones who can really take on the Brains."

"Pretty sure anyone can _take_ 'em, sugar," said Skutch. "They're just the only ones who should finish 'em off."

"I really wish you'd stop calling me that," said Lex, rolling her eyes. We were both pretty used to Skutch's harmless—and incredibly stupid—nicknaming by now… just as he was probably accustomed to our ease in passing it off, and so the cycle continued.

Skutch shrugged it off, and took a look around. His expression contorted, unsure of whether to show his feelings of nostalgia, or anger. "Been a while since I've been here," he commented. "Dunno how much Tak cleanup is still goin' on."

"Well, then, let's admit that we might be the cleanup crew," Dad suggested, tugging at his gloves. Skutch noticed, and, as if catching a contagious yawn, tugged at his own.

"But we're mostly just holding off the military, right?" Lex checked.

Dib nodded. "This place seems like an easy one to get lost in," he said, "so everyone just stay alert and listen to Skutch. I want to make this leg of the mission as swift as possible, since we need to lock down the _Massive_ again before Tak can make it here, since I'm sure she's on the move.

Skutch held up two fingers. "Devastis second," he said. "It's possible she just goes there."

"Right," Dib and I agreed.

"All the more reason to get moving," Lex noted. "She's probably had a plan and a half this whole time we've been otherwise occupied."

"Exactly. Oh," I added. "Skutch, is GIR still with you?"

"Oh, yeah. No."

"NO?"

"Chill, doll, he's with Tenn," Skutch assured me in his snarky way. "Sent him over before we landed."

That was good. We had to keep tabs on that robot, so that he couldn't wake again in that state that was threatening to Zim. Any and all precautions had to be taken.

Not wanting to waste any more time, we all wished each other luck, traded goodbyes—and Dib gave a bit of extra consolation to the army—and went our separate ways. Skutch pointed Dib and I in the direction of the elevator that would bring us up to the Control Brains' level, then took his segment of the army out a door to the right. Dad and Lex led their group to the left, the same direction in which Dib and I had to go. We two then broke to take the lift, while the rest continued on.

It was comforting to know that it was their group closest to us. Despite Skutch's knowledge of the ship's blueprints, Dad or Lex would be the ones I'd want to see first, should something happen that we would need immediate backup for. Dib agreed with my sentiment, when I noted it in the cylindrical elevator we stepped into.

The elevator was only large enough to hold maybe six or seven people, but felt awkwardly spacious with just Dib and I standing at the center. "Do you think Tak's going to try anything?" I asked him, to keep myself thinking about things other than my worries for Zim, and for Ira, who I knew we were soon to see again.

"Right now?" Dib guessed. "I'm not sure. I think Skutch and Lex are right: she's a step ahead for the time being. I'd bet she's on Devastis. Not gonna lie, I'm kind of anxious to see that planet…"

"Of course you are," I snorted, punching him in the arm.

Dib laughed.

"Anyway, at least Red did one stupid, helpful thing by breaking the lock on these Brains, right?" I spat out. I couldn't help it. I was pissed at Tallest Red, and knew I would not be able to control my actions when we met up with him here.

"That's true," Dib sighed. "I think that's the hardest of it… breaking one of those Talismans that've given the Brains shelter all this time."

"I'm kinda ready to blow something up, though," I admitted.

"Good," my brother grinned. "Me, too."

Dib squeezed my shoulder to pass me luck and reassurance, and then the elevator dinged. _"Corridor to Transmission Room Two,"_ a high, robotic voice informed us. The elevator door slid open to the right, revealing a long hallway. Luckily, an arrow pointed to the left underneath a floating screen bearing Irken writing that most likely spelled out the same information the elevator's voice had provided us.

"Here we go," Dib breathed out.

The instant my brother and I stepped out into the corridor, I got the awful sensation that we were being watched. I felt it in my chest, in between my shoulderblades, and in the air all around me. Despite my father's fantastic invention that kept us all stable, I was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.

At least fortune granted us a relatively unoccupied space to walk through, as far as physical bodies went. I still felt someone's eyes on me, every step I took. Eyes… or maybe just influence. Dib and I slipped along, unnoticed, keeping our backs to the curved, reddish-grey walls, making our footsteps on the metal floor as light as possible.

"Hey," I asked, grabbing his arm, "something feel 'off' to you?"

"Huh?" he wondered.

"I don't know. Something's weird. Was Meekrob like this?"

Dib hesitated, and glanced around to make sure we were still on our own. More or less convinced, he shook his head. "I mean, I've never been here," he said, "but I can tell something isn't right. Like, my head hurts. I can't breathe."

"Same," I said. There was a pretty maddening buzz of static activity in the air, I realized. Now, I was not as well-versed in the reading of static energy as my brother, so I was sure he, ever more aware of natural electricity, was feeling slightly more pressure than I could. "I hope we're going the right way."

"I get the sense we are," Dib said with confidence.

I trusted his instincts, and we pressed on. The other teams were hopefully holding their own. I was convinced that they were. Skutch knew the _Massive_ like the back of his—well… he knew the ship well. And my dad was a professional; so, too, more or less, was Lex. They'd lead their squads well. Plus, Tenn and the rest of the army were ready and waiting for a signal. No alarms had gone off yet to warn of intruders, so our crew had to be doing something right, so far.

For a ship so large, the _Massive's_ halls felt oddly cramped. With ceilings peaking at seven feet high, and walls too wide for two-lane traffic, I felt more like I was in an underground tunnel than an airborne vessel capable of housing a large percentage of the Irken race.

Until we made it to what was clearly a more central location. At the end of the corridor, the ship opened up into a palatial hallway, with brighter red walls and nearly never-ending doors, leading into an unfathomable collection of rooms and other hallways. The soaring, domed ceilings gave the impression of brushing the sky, and military symbols glowed golden on the doors, signifying that it was truly an honor to be on board. Here, too, were sounds of activity. We were no longer alone.

"Stay close," my brother whispered to me, wrapping his right hand tightly around the hilt of his sword. I nodded and felt for my daggers. They were secured and ready.

I still hated the feeling I was getting from the air.

A guard identical to those we had come across in the docking bay passed by as the two of us tried to cross to the other side of the hall. He gasped and held out the electrically-charged spear he held, but I, thinking fast, rushed up, grabbed the shaft of the weapon, and kicked the guard away, thus disarming him. He collided into the wall, but when he landed, he called out, "Intruders! We are under—"

Dib punched him in the head before he could finish, but the first word was all that was needed.

The _Massive_ awoke with activity. Footsteps, heavy, militant, echoed from both ends of the enormous hallway, surrounding us. From the sound of it, there was no way we could take all of the Irkens who were now approaching, and besides, it was best to conserve our energy while we could. In the same frame of mind, Dib and I backed up toward one of the sliding metal doors. "Hope this is a good choice and not a broom closet," Dib muttered as he punched the door. It slid open, from the floor up, and we slinked through before any of the soldiers could enter the hall.

No celebrating quite yet, though, since the door had dumped us out into a large, circular pod of a room. Two thirds of the rounded far wall were windows looking out over the Armada, but the central part was solid, bearing a transmission screen at least twenty feet long and ten high. As soon as we turned to face the windows, however, metal shields shot up from the floor, blocking our view of the stars and fleet vehicles. My brother grabbed me back, protectively.

With the windows obscured, the light in the room dimmed, and I noticed a rather drastic change in temperature. Steam—no, _smoke_—rose up from the floor, so I could not see our feet nor where we stepped, and I shivered in the now biting air.

And in the center of the room stood a lean, tall figure.

"Um… Red?" Dib tried, cautiously.

From the figure came muted, emotionless laughter. "Oh, no," I breathed, clutching Dib's arm. "No, no, no…"

"Red?" said the figure. His tone was hollow and false, but I knew that it belonged, at least in a way, to Ira. But that was not him, no: he had been drained. In the shape of an Irken Tallest; the PAK on the back of his purple armor glowed an ominous violet, washing out his mind. Oh, he was there, yes, but he was caged. Gone.

Mad. Controlled. Subdued.

"Red's being a coward," said—oh, I felt awful for doing so, but I _had_ to separate who spoke now from Ira; in my head, I labeled that figure Purple. He turned. His eyes were without light. No, Ira was not speaking.

The PAK was.

That, coupled with the trouble both Zim and Dib had had with their own PAKs, convinced me: the PAKs were the voices of the Control Brains. The Irkens really did need our help, if they were ever going to truly be able to think for themselves. What a burden it must have been to be an Irken Original… but what a blessing. To have the ability to feel one thing, one unique thing that all the others could not. Even thinking about the fact that most of the rest were merely _programmed…_ ugh, that was not a way to treat beings that had every capability to govern themselves.

Somehow, the Brains had assumed control over the computer they had latched onto my godfather for his punishment. Which was fucking ridiculous and unfair and made me sick. But I knew: to get Ira back, we _had_ to get to those Brains.

"Look at you, here, right here, trapped with me!" Purple sang, holding his arms out to the sides, causing the smoke to swirl around him as he did. It flitted up into the air and was gone in a moment.

"Trapped?" Dib managed. I was screaming inside, and could not speak.

"There are two doors here, and neither of them opens from the inside," said Purple, staring us down with those emotionless eyes. Somewhere behind them was a human crying out for help. Fuck—we had to get to that Control Brain core. Now. Or Ira was done for, I just knew it. For now, I could be selfish and want only to save him. "It's stay here, or take the leap out the window. When I can see the window." The smoke grew denser.

"Okay…" Dib said on a heavy breath, trying to be rational, "this is… this is fine. We have backup. W-we can get out," he continued, his eyes fixed on the false Tallest, "and we are going to get you out, too. We're going to help you."

"Oh, no, no; I can't _leave,"_ said Purple, lilting and possessed. "And," he added as a pod of his PAK opened up to reveal a sharp set of four metal appendages, which fixed above and just behind his head, "I'm supposed to be alone."

The pod charged, and a purple laser gathered at the tips of the extra legs.

I let out my scream, and Dib pulled me down to avoid the blast, but just then, the second door, a mere dozen feet to the left of the one we had entered through, slid open, and I heard Red shout out, "STOP!"

Purple broke into wild laughter, but retracted the appendages. I looked up, through the smoke, as Tallest Red sped into the room and grabbed down his partner's arms. "You don't know what you're doing," Red admonished him, his voice half as strong as I was accustomed to hearing. "This needs to stop."

"Let go of me," Purple demanded in a dark tone, throwing Red aside. The Tallest flew back, just as Dib and I were helping each other back onto our feet; I leapt to the right and Dib to the left as Red crashed between us, angling himself to the wall such that his PAK would not get crushed. "You can't lay a hand on me anymore, understand? This is what you wanted. I've assimilated."

"No!" Red hollered. "Shut up, okay, just shut UP! I did not want this!"

"Red, what's going on?" Dib snapped at the Tallest.

Red righted himself, and pushed away from the wall; I knew that, as an Irken Tallest, his feet did not—possibly could not—touch the ground, but the smoke was so thick, it was hard to see much below our waists. "I'm glad you're here," he said, glancing apologetically between the two of us. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, we're—" Dib began.

But I couldn't hold back. I was so strained with a tempest of mixed emotions tossing through my heart and mind that the only thing I wanted to do was get at least one good punch in on Red. So I did. I yanked him down by the arm with my right hand and dealt a good strong left hook across his face.

"OW!" he spat. "What the hell was that for?"

"You're an asshole!" I shouted at him.

"Gaz!" Dib admonished me, though I was sure he'd wanted to do the same.

"Well, he is!" I screamed.

Behind us, Purple started laughing again. My eyes began to sting, and then burn with tears I refused to let out. I was heating up with too much rage as it was. All I wanted was for my godfather to be returned to the life he deserved. All I wanted for him was the ability to make up for lost time, the chance to live as he chose. Instead, the Brains had drained him.

Red could not deny that it was all his fault.

"It's your fault," I growled, punching Red again. "It's all your fucking fault that Ira's—"

"I know!" Red interrupted, grabbing my wrists so I'd stop. I thrashed against him and tried to shove him away, but his grip was surprisingly strong for someone with only two long fingers on each armored hand. "I know, and I feel terrible."

"You do?" Dib wondered.

"Yes, I do, all right?" Red lashed out. "Now, look, even though I did some really stupid things, there's nothing you can gain by beating me up right now, and you know it."

"You're still an asshole," I muttered.

"Thanks, yeah, okay, all right, yes. But your real opponents are in there." Red ticked his head back toward the door he'd come through, which was still open. "I was just in there trying to reason with them, to call off the guards, since I made contact with Tenn not too long ago. How many of you are here?"

"Skutch, Lex and our dad are with half the army, on board," said Dib. "Tenn's got the rest, and GIR, in a ship outside."

"But just you two in this room?" Red guessed.

"Yeah. Why?"

Red growled, and glanced back at the door he'd come through. "The Brains just really hate company," he muttered. "I'll go back in with you, though. I owe you that. I owe Ira that, and I owe it to my Empire." Red shook his head, and passed a look between us. "I get it," he said, to convince himself of his conviction. "I'm completely with you in this fight, you know that."

"Good," my brother said.

"What do we do about Ira?" I demanded.

"He comes with us," said Red, guiltily. "It's going to be tough, if the Brains have a hold on that PAK of his. It's a loaner, it's not even supposed to have real functions, but those fucking Brains don't care about ethics or anything."

"And you do?" I snorted.

"Shut up," Red groaned. "Let's just get in there. Once inside, there're three screens, one on each Brain. Blast or rip out those screens, and they're defenseless."

"That's it?" Dib sounded like he wanted to laugh.

The glare Red shot him was enough to shut him up. The Brains had, after all, been protected by the Cabochon for their entire existence. Now that it was gone, we needed only to finish the job.

Dib cleared his throat, then cracked his knuckles. "Right," he said. "Let's get in there and give these things a nice, big hello from Miyuki's heirs."

"Heirs?" Purple remarked. "Nothing but a word."

I heard the charging of a laser, and yelped when Purple fired. The other three of us ducked out of the way. The Brains had him. Had a complete hold on him; it was awful to have to endure. "You can't destroy them!" Purple shouted over at us. "There's no destroying—"

_"Stop,_ I said!" Red yelled over him. "You two, get in there. We'll be right behind you."

Knowing that it was the best thing for us to do, Dib and I hurried in through the door, through which the smoke in the transmission room did not pass. We were in a solid grey, freezing vestibule for a moment, and then a second door spiraled open into a cramped room that glowed purple.

The space itself was quite large in scale, but every wall was occupied. We entered the room to find ourselves standing on what felt like a stage, a floor of fitted metals that seemed much, much older than the materials that made up the rest of the construction of the ship. The Brains, therefore, must have been placed onto the ship after its commission, in order to become mobile. Due to the fact that they were not fixed to a planet, these were probably a lesser tier than the rest. That was best, for our first trial.

For our first conquest.

As heirs to our mother's legacy, herself a keeper of another Irken Talisman, we could be the ones to conquer the Control Brains.

Destroy the screens, huh?

I saw the three that Red was talking about, but the room was so daunting, I could not imagine how we could even reach them.

Three enormous pods, which looked like giant-scale versions of all Irkens' PAKs, were fixed to the room, giving it that cramped feeling due to their size. One, which glowed green, took up the left-hand wall, one, glowing purple, the right, and the third, glowing an alternating blue and red, was situated at the center. In the middle of each Brain was an LED screen. The screens were black when we entered. Thick, snaking grey, red, and purple wires connected the Brains to one another and to the room, and the glowing lights each one emitted did so on a pulse.

This was a computer that emulated life. The Brains shared a stream of consciousness, and therefore a stream of vitality. If only one was destroyed, the others could live on and possibly revive the fallen one. All three had to be taken out, if not together then at least in as close an instant as possible.

We hadn't been in the room two seconds before that feeling of being watched became clearer. Of course—with sleeping PAK capabilities inside both of us, Dib and I could feel the Brains' presence on the ship. To think that the Irkens never knew a moment of privacy… no wonder Zim wanted to break and become human, no wonder Tenn and Skutch seemed unconcerned with taking our side. It was a terrible, sinking feeling.

The Brains could control Irken PAKs. Technically, I realized, they could shut them down any time they wanted to. Irkens became soldiers to carry out Brain orders, to further the influence of an Empire that, when I thought about it, was really all just one enormous supercomputer. Destroy the Brains, and there could be a functioning society.

The screens on each Brain flashed white, then went back to black, reading a fast scrolling of red-lettered information. A hum began to buzz as the Brains awoke with activity. Finally, an Irken Military symbol appeared like an eye on each screen. We'd been targeted.

"Intrusion," said a low, sonorous, yet still robotic voice. It was coming from the central Brain.

"Intrusion," the other two echoed on similar tones.

There was a whirring all around us, and the walls opened up at the ceiling. Massive laser cannons unfolded from the walls and were aimed toward us. "Shit!" Dib yelped. "Gaz, shield, now!"

I hardly even needed the warning. On the same breath, Dib and I gathered what energy from the air we could, and put up shields from the borrowed static just in time to avoid being blasted by the Brains' cannons. The cannons fired four times before folding back into the walls.

"We see, now," said the central Brain. Dib and I let down our shields but kept up our guard. It was interesting—being in that room, I was not shocked, nor was I terrified. I just felt an overwhelming sense of duty. Not duty to the Empire, as the PAKs were all programmed to feel, but to a just cause. I had no time to be frightened of the Brains. I just had to destroy them. Get them out of the way. Make sure they could not harm the civilians they lorded over anymore. "You are the Heirs."

"We have been—" said the one on the left.

"—waiting for you," the one on the right finished.

"You who removed Our shield," the three droned out together.

Well, technically, that was Red, but neither my brother nor I corrected them.

Despite how heavy the air still seemed, I realized that I was feeling a stronger connection to Dib, as if our own brains were linked by wire. Maybe we weren't twins, but we had a strong sibling bond. Was that an answer to giving us what we needed in order to beat these things? I had a feeling it was at least something, given that together we had the influence passed to us from our mother.

"You don't have to get used to us," Dib said. "You're not going to be around much longer."

"The Prophecy needs not end with Our annihilation," said the central Brain. The left and right Brains opened compartments at their sides that then shot out wires, one toward Dib on the left, one toward me on the right. "Assimilate. Lead. Lead as Miyuki once did, and We will forgive your imbalance."

"No," I growled out, firmly. Gathering energy, I blasted back the wire that was coming at me. Dib, I noticed, had done the same.

"Gaz!" he shouted over at me. "Get to the screen!"

"Got it!"

"We see that you have chosen treachery," the three Brains said together. "The Heirs have declared war."

"Not against the Empire," Dib corrected. "Just against you!"

The left brain snapped another wire out at him, but Dib was ready; he leapt over the wire and landed on top of it. The thick wire slithered underneath him, but he broke into a run over it. When the wire jerked out to the side, he jumped, and caught onto a shelf jutting out from the wall. Once secured, he held out his right hand, gathered a static orb, and blasted at the Brains' left screen.

It flickered, and the room went dark for a second before whirring back to electronic consciousness again.

Taking a page from my brother, I took a different route. When another cannon was revealed, this time from the top of the right brain, I ducked, and darted up underneath the enormous, PAK-like being. The floor opened up, so I blasted down into the compartment that had opened, to stop the wires that threatened to grab me round my ankles, then bent back and blasted upward, to the bottom of the Brain.

The cannon fired down on me, and, thinking fast, I sent a blast back. Sparks shot out when the forces collided, and I rolled out of the way to avoid shock. Now directly in front of the right Brain, I filled my lungs, steeled myself, and punched a strong blast at its screen.

Another flicker, and little else.

My heart pounding, I doubled back to gather my breath, and was soon back to back with my brother at the center of the room again, on that small stage-like floor. "What do we do?" I hissed at him.

"Just keep trying, I guess," he said.

"That's such a stupid plan, Dib!" I snapped. "And what if we lose just to fatigue?"

"Well, do you have a better idea?"

"I don't know."

We surveyed the room together, but it was impossible to tell how many secret compartments the Brains could open up, and how many weapons were concealed behind the walls. We weren't just in a holding room: we were in a gauntlet. There was no way we could win, two against three. One eye would always be on us. What we needed was a distraction.

And that was just what we got.

A red laser blast came from the doorway, and hit the central Brain just above its receiving screen. "Last straw," Red's voice spat out. "Last fucking straw."

I turned to look at the Tallest, discovering that he had entered the room in a seething rage. Beside him was Purple, no longer spewing out words that the Brains forced him to say… but emptier. He looked completely shut down, the way GIR did.

Fuck.

"NO!" I screamed.

Red's eyes narrowed as he blasted again, then folded the metal appendages that had fired the laser back into his PAK. "Come on," he said to the two of us. "This can be easy if we just go. Each of you, take a side, and just rip those fucking screens out. I'm done with these damn Brains. You hear me?" he shouted at the three glowing pods. "I've fucking _HAD IT WITH YOU."_

"You cannot rise against Us," said the Brains. "You are our tool."

"No, I'm not," Red snapped, moving in front of us. "I'm the Tallest."

"You have acted out of code," the Brains admonished him. "For this, you must be punished. One privilege revoked."

Red let out a sudden, intense cry of pain as his PAK sparked. Against my better judgment, I rushed forward to pull him back, away from the omnipotent machines. The Tallest gasped in a breath, and I heard a half voiced, "Thank you."

"Every move against us shall end in one more privilege stripped of you, Original," said the center Brain.

Red's sharp eyes narrowed in disgust as he stared down the machines. "Undo what you did," he snarled.

"To you? We cannot. We will not."

"I don't care about me."

My eyes snapped open in shock. What the hell had I just heard? Tallest Red, the absolute definition of ego trip, had just put himself second. Or maybe even last. That just did not happen, not that I'd ever known or heard. Red probably knew that I was staring at him, but he kept his own focus forward.

"You heard me," he went on, speaking harshly. "Undo what you did."

"You have had one ability disabled," the Brain on the left warned. "A second is near at hand."

"I don't care! I've had it. I have _had it!"_ Red moved away from me and opened his PAK to reveal again those impressive spider legs. He positioned them forward, but they did not charge. So that was what the Brains had meant by taking something away from him. Non-vital system functions of the organ they controlled. And they could do that to anyone with a working PAK.

Red snarled and folded the appendages back into his PAK. He drew instead a laser gun from a holster around his waist I'd not noticed before and aimed it forward. "Red, what're you doing?" I shouted.

"I said I've had it!" he hollered at the Brains. "Undo what you did!"

"You cannot raise that weapon at Us," the center Brain warned flatly. "That is mutiny."

"Well, then." Red revved up the gun. "I guess I'm a traitor."

"Red!" I tried again.

But he was pissed, and when Red got in that mode, there was no talking to him. There was hardly ever a way to talk to him at all, but once he got really set on something, that was just about it. He listened to one person above all others: himself. And he acted for himself, too. Even if he'd apparently just declared to value something or someone higher than himself.

Wait.

Wait, it _was_ someone…

Red's shot hit the center Brain in the receiving screen, which immediately got the other two firing back at him. Thinking fast, my brother and I both rushed forward to toss up a fortified shield, but the Brains were more than a match even for that trick that worked fine against most of our other opponents. Dib and I nodded at each other and bolted to either side.

As Red continued firing at the center, I sped again toward the Brain on the right, and Dib to the left. Thinking fast, once sparks began to fly at me from the enormous computer, I gathered up energy and shot it at the Brain's center screen. It shorted out just long enough for the thing to lose sight of me, so I grabbed out my daggers, jumped up to the Brain, and jabbed my left weapon into the tiny crease between the screen and the Brain's surface.

I shoved my foot down against the metallic surface of my opponent to keep my balance, and held onto a wire with my right hand, since I'd get flung loose and have quite a fall otherwise. I gathered up all of my breath, borrowed energy from the air—and was it ever abundant—and willed the energy to gather toward the blade of my _saidraken._ With the added boost, I began to wrench the screen off.

The room's lights began flashing red with a warning signal, and the distracted central Brain's voice droned out, "Mutiny has been declared. All systems report to Bay Number—"

"How _dare you?"_

The voice was enough to distract me, until Dib shouted over, "Don't stop, Gaz, you've gotta get that screen!"

I swallowed back my nerves and fears, and did as my brother instructed, sawing away at the screen that now showed static as it tried to re-communicate with the Irken populous. But the voice from the doorway had been Ira's own strangely lucid tone. I wanted to turn, but could not. The sound and feel of his voice alerted me to the fact that he was still 'Purple,' and still at the Brains' whim, allegedly, but as soon as he'd started to speak, Red ceased fire.

He'd been returned to consciousness, though, which was more than promising. Steadily, every blast that we made against the Brains was releasing their hold on him. His life and sanity were at stake, but the fact that he was clinging to both was proof that our small attacks were doing something against our opponents. We just had to press on.

"How dare you," Purple continued, tremulously as he continued trying to keep his own mind in check, "refer to your own subjects… as _SYSTEMS?"_

With a final breath, I yanked the screen off of the right Brain just as Dib dislodged the one on the left. Both of us were thrown down from the force of it, and as soon as I landed, I spun myself back up onto my feet to cast a look back at both the rightful Tallest and the accidental one. Purple didn't look so great; his PAK emitted sharp blue sparks, and his eyes were—wandering, yet…

"All PAKs are systems of Our consciousness," said the central Brain. "Yours is no exception."

"You're supposed to be leaders," Purple chastised it, sounding more like the Ira I had come to know with every word. "A good leader should feel at least some empathy for the country or Empire he's expected to run. You shouldn't rely on your subjects as systems for you to control; _they_ need to be able to rely on _you!_ You can't turn innocent minds into machines!"

"Machines are more obedient."

"How's this for obedient?" Red hollered, picking up his gun to fire again. "This is my fucking Empire, and I'm done with you running it!"

"Originals should not be Tallest," the Brain droned. "This shall be rectified."

"Why," Red snorted, blasting the Brain's screen with another two shots, "because I feel compassion? Taken me a damn long time to figure it out, but at least something finally started to make sense. These kids know more about leadership than you ever did."

"We know all. The Heirs are threats."

"No," said Red. "They're the future."

Okay, fine. Maybe I wasn't quite so mad at him at the moment. He'd made some good points.

"This is mutiny and treason!" the central Brain called out as the ship's warning lights flared. "You cannot destroy the most powerful government in the universe!"

"Oops," my brother shrugged. "Looks like we've got a pretty good start."

"Your own numbers will dwindle with Ours. Traitors to the Empire shall be reported and executed."

One straggling, limp wire fell from the ceiling and latched onto Purple's PAK. I screamed, and he froze. Red shot at the central lobe again as the four of us panicked. "Starting," said the Brain, to the false Tallest, "with you."

"No!" Dib shouted. "What was the rule? Someone of higher rank than Red has to pardon him? Well—_I DO."_ He rushed up and grabbed the end of the wire. "Gaz, come on," he called over to me, his words rushed. Without a second to pause and think about what was going on, I darted to his side and took hold of the wire as well. "We're Miyuki's heirs, aren't we?" he then shouted at the Brains. "Our vote should count pretty fuckin' high, don't you think?"

_"THIS IS AN UPRISING!"_

"No kidding," I scoffed. "Now, release him."

_Undo what you've done._

"Ira Murasaki, by order of Tallest Miyuki's heirs, is hereby pardoned," Dib announced strongly. "Your punishment has been over-ruled. Take a good look, because this is just the beginning of a stronger Empire."

_"NO!"_ the Brains droned out in unison.

Dib grabbed my hand, and together we sent a blast up the wire we both held. The Brain released the PAK, and when the wire snaked pack to re-join the cluster in the ceiling, the entire room exploded.

_"Move!"_ Red shouted at us through the blast. I hardly had time to blink before the Tallest darted in front of us and shoved us out.

Then came the blow. The pressure from the explosion forced all four of us out through the door, which blew off and crashed into the metal wall several hundred feet behind us. The shields then bolted back down to the floor, revealing again the windows in the circular room we had been standing in prior to advancing on the Brains. I lost my grip and, with all the thick, curling smoke around me, had to rely purely on instinct to angle my body in the way that would promise the least injury once I landed.

I hit the cold, solid floor hard enough to lose my breath for a minute, and even when I coughed my lungs into working order again, I was met with the dense air of the blast. My brother called my name out, and a moment later I felt his hands on my arms as he helped me up. It took a couple tries for my eyes to adjust and my head to stop spinning, but soon I could make out Dib's silhouette in the smoke. The only thing I could think to do was hug him, and he held me tightly in return.

"Did we do it?" I coughed into his shoulder. "Dib, did we beat them?"

"Seems like it," he answered, his voice shaking somewhat from the aftershock. "The sirens and warnings stopped, at least."

The smoke began to clear, at last, and we held each other up, glancing around to get our bearings. Then, satisfied that the attack was over, we heaved the same sigh and shared a concerned glance. We had not heard any other movement around us, and it was hard to tell how far the blast had reached through the room.

My brother's watch beeped with a call; when he stood back to take it, Tenn's voice could be heard through the small speakers: "Everyone okay? What's the call? I felt a lock."

"Lock?" Dib and I wondered simultaneously.

"System lock on my PAK. You guys at least made an impression, that's for sure."

"Are you okay?" Dib asked her.

"Fine," said Tenn, "but I'm stuck in hologram with basic functions until there's a system override."

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"You know how if one engine of a ship goes down, auxiliary power shuts down some of the functions to keep it going without that engine? That's kinda what's happening with my PAK," Tenn explained. "It's gone into backup."

"But you're all right?" Dib checked again.

"Yeah, otherwise fine."

My own watch beeped with a call from Skutch. "You guys fuckin' _nailed it!"_ he congratulated us. "The _Massive's_ on core power now. Fuckin' fleet's goin' crazy! On to Devastis for round two, motherfuckers!"

"Oh—no celebrating _quite_ yet," I said abruptly. "We still have to locate Red and Ira…"

"And figure out how to secure the _Massive,"_ Dib added. "Tenn, could you contact my dad? If we can all gather once before we move on, that'd be best, I think."

"Sure thing. Ira all right?"

"I'll—we're… we're on it. Give us a few minutes," I requested.

As soon as we ended our calls, we began our search. It didn't take long, since the smoke was steadily clearing, until we literally collided with Red, looking shaken but unharmed. His PAK flashed a little, but I would ask about that later. For now, all three of us had only one thing on our minds.

"Jeez, there you are," Red said frantically, his eyes widening a bit upon noticing us after the collision.

"Some to you," said Dib, catching his breath. "Did we—?"

"Yeah, the room's totaled," the Tallest confirmed. He glanced back in the direction of the crumbled Control Brain room. Well, that felt good to know. Pretty damn good. But I was still nervous. Red looked at the two of us again, and asked, "Where's Ira?"

"He's not with you?" Dib asked harshly.

"No, he—"

We all noticed at the same time: the silhouette by the window, curled in under the last fading dust cloud. "Ira!" we cried out together.

He wasn't moving.

But he was human.

His clothes were different than they had been on the last day I'd seen him: a long-sleeved, white collared shirt was open over a greyish purple, loose-fitting tee; simple jeans and grey tennis shoes, all very out of date, completed what he wore. Un-tied, his hair spilled over his face, black and purple melding together to just the same alluring effect as always.

"Shit…" my brother said under his breath. "Is he breathing?"

"Let me—" Red began.

_"I'll_ check," I cut off the Tallest, my anger for his previous actions returning. Which he understood, oddly enough.

Red swallowed his pride and stood back by my brother, while I, cautiously, approached and knealt beside my godfather. A sudden sting of worry stabbed at my chest; I brushed Ira's hair out of his face, then held my hand, trembling, over his mouth. No breath flowed. No breath.

"He's not—" I started.

"What's going on in here?"

My innards did a swan dive. The person who had spoken was Lex, but she was not the one who then ran toward us. With her, I noticed when I whipped my head around to confirm that we had new company, was my father. Good… good, they were both unharmed. Hopefully Skutch had collected both branches of the army, and we'd seen no casualties.

"Lex! Dad!" I cried out.

"Did we make it?" Dad asked. "Is—"

"I don't know!"

"Here."

Dad pulled a small capsule out of his lab coat pocket, knealt, and helped Ira up to sitting, forcing the capsule into his mouth. Immediately, Ira's eyes opened and he coughed a few times, trying to get his breath back. I let out a yelp of surprise, and then a weighty sigh of relief.

Once he was breathing normally again, Ira glanced at my father and stumbled back. "What just happened?" he yelped. "What's—_aaahhh!"_

Ira grabbed at his throat with both hands, and his eyes shot open wide. Stunned, he took a few more deep, staggered breaths in and out. I understood his panic: his voice was lower in timbre and tone than the Irken glide that 'Tallest Purple' had been forced to speak with. Pressing his lips tightly together to keep from crying out, Ira carefully then drew his hands out in front of them, and watched them tremble. Turned them over. And back. The corners of his mouth twitched upward, then spread into a smile, and finally a grin.

And then he let out a cry. He fell forward, hugging his knees up close to his chest, then instantly sitting back again. Indulgently, he ran his hands back through his hair, let out a touch of a laugh, which muted to a choke of a sob, which then became simply a sigh. "Is it over?" he asked aloud, most likely just to hear his own voice. "Is it over?"

Letting my eyes water, I inched closer, gently placed one hand on Ira's shoulder, and confirmed, "It's over."

Ira dropped his hands and turned his attention on me. His eyes were a brilliant lilac, soft and sincere. Not the eyes I had come to know during his stay at the complex before. In temporary human form, he had retained that Irken sharpness to his eyes… but these were his. They showed deep care and longing. Every emotion at once.

That, I told myself, was what it was like to see a man's soul.

And that instilled in me the confidence that I could now take the steps to see to it that Zim's own brown eyes could be capable of the same. Zim could become human… but I needed to be there for him. I wanted to be. I had to be.

I had to be there for everyone I loved.

My father, my brother, my godfather, my friends.

I promised myself, then and there, that I would.

I'd just helped to take down the first of four groups of Irken Control Brains. Maybe I still felt a little uncomfortable with this whole Prophecy thing, but I did like, and was now accepting, the fact that I was able to bring about change. For the better.

"Look at you," my godfather breathed, taking my face in his hands. His tone was so smooth, and so kind. No Irken ring, no forced harshness. And all coupled with that same signature, calming smile of his. Ira Murasaki was human again. "Gaz, look at you…"

"Hi, Ira," I managed.

We fell into the hug at the same time. He clung to me tightly, and I held fast as well. My godfather wasn't going to be taken from me again. "I missed you," I added.

"You, as well," he told me. "I'm so sorry…"

"It's not your fault," I said.

Ira let out a simple hum, then drew back, kissed me on the cheek, and gently, in his caring, fatherly way, brushed a few tears away from the corners of my eyes. "You have grown up so well, Gaz," he told me. "I am so proud of you. And thank you. Thank you."

All I could manage was a nod.

My brother approached us at that point, with Lex a step behind him. There we gathered, all of us mending, each of us a member of the acquired family my father once had. My mother had yet to show herself again, and Victor Haynsworth still had his own process of healing ahead, but we were becoming whole again.

In taking the steps to follow my fate as Tallest Miyuki's heir, I was taking part in the events that would bring my family back to me. And as I sat there, wrapped for a moment of congratulations and relief with my father, brother, godfather, and friend close to me as a sister, I prayed, too, for Zim's success.

We were on our way toward the larger battle, now. The other Brains would be more ready for us. Tak was still out there, waiting. But this mission had made me stronger. Dib and I had saved someone close to us; we could still save others. We were Tallest Miyuki's heirs, and we were not going to give up without a fight… and we weren't going to go into battle without the support of those closest to us.

Maybe the rest of the Brains still had control over their subjects, but we had far more fortitude. We had a weapon that the Brains could never know:

Trust.

Plain and simple.

This was a test of trust. Ira's faith in us, and our trust in his deserved recovery, had outweighed the Brains' control. We had an ally in Tallest Red. In Tenn, in Skutch, in Zim, in the Meekrob, in our own steadfast army.

To give the subjects of the Irken Empire their own voices, we had to fortify ourselves, to the very cores of our souls. And this was something we were willing to do, in order to see that Prophecy through, to the very end.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Ahh, here we go! One section of Brains down, three to go. :3 The events of this chapter were another reason I had to get out all of that Ira history last week. Dib's going to be following up this narration next week as they start to sort out _Massive_ stuff and head to the next checkpoint. This was meant to be the easiest trial, though, so… much, much more to come. The other Brains may not be so easy to break... XD I'm excited to get these guys to Devastis, since I loved the concept of that planet on the show, haha… Gonna be checking back in with Zim again, here, soon, too!

Many, many thanks for reading! I've had a crazy busy week of travel, so posting this one early today, whee~ See you again next **Friday, July 20****th****!** :3

~Jizena

(Due to my playing catch-up on a bunch of things this week, though, there's a possibility the chapter may go up on **Saturday, July 21****st** instead, but I'll be sure to post in my profile/on my tumblr—the-mandylion-saga—if that happens! ^^)

– – –


	5. Devastis 1: Empathy

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

I'd be lying if I said that taking down the Control Brains didn't give me a strange kind of high. In the six years I had known about and studied the Irken race, I had more or less been preparing for a moment like that. What I never could have guessed, however, was that I'd be in such good company for the event.

What we had just done was monumental and terrifying. I was attacking the core government of an alien race that had thrived for years as a living machine, taking down outlet society by outlet society. I didn't know if I was a threat or an agent of defense. Either way, I was going to see this through to the end.

Especially seeing the healing that was already underway, in the wake of that first conquest against the Brains. Tenn had mentioned feeling a lock on her PAK's functions, but she gave off no impression that she was upset about it, and I trusted her honesty. Plus, I had visual cues right in front of me. We'd released Ira from the Brains' punishment. Proof that we were on our way to doing more of the right thing.

And then there was Red. Whose involvement with us had gone from reluctant to downright reliable. I had plenty of reason to trust him, too.

Especially when he said, "Not to cause any panic or anything, but we should probably get moving."

"Yeah," I said, "good point. Skutch," I said into my watch, "your team good to go?"

"Back at the loading bay. We're waitin' for ya," he replied.

Good; we seemed to be moving at a good pace. Now that the Control Brains knew that we were here, onto them, and leading an attack, though, I didn't want to get too cocky. There was still plenty to be concerned about.

First thing was first, though: we needed a plan. And before that, even, there was one small thing to take care of.

"Come on," Dad prompted Ira, who was still in both delight and shock over having gotten his life back. I honestly couldn't believe it—we'd really been able to break the punishment. Ira was really human, back to the way he was supposed to be, after a dozen years. The readjustment was bound to be a big part of his capabilities for a while, too, I realized, when Ira struggled with getting his gravitational bearings.

"Darn it," Gaz's godfather complained, "I forgot. I haven't actually been human for a long time, so…"

_"Can_ you get up?" Gaz asked, sounding worried.

"Just give me a second…"

"Here." One on either side, Gaz and our father helped Ira to his feet, while Lex and I stood back to spot him if need be.

"Gonna be able to walk?" Dad wondered. "Or… stand?"

"Oh, wow, hey, standing, yes. Standing's great." Ira let himself laugh a little, but I saw his concern when he looked down at his feet. "I'm sure I'll be fine once the pins and needles are gone."

"Want me to carry you?" Dad offered, half-jokingly.

"Ugh," said Ira, sticking his tongue out, "I'd rather die."

"You're still pretty annoying for a Harvard kid," my father mocked him.

"Says the MIT dropout," Ira chided right back, elbowing Dad in the ribs. He righted his balance, then showed a smile again. "You're an idiot, Charles, but I'll finally admit that your organization was a pretty great success. And it kinda saved my life."

Dad grinned. "You're welcome. I'll help you walk it off."

"Sure thing."

"We should get moving soon," I said, "I agree with Red. But you guys take a lap or something. Ira, how do you want to continue?"

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, looking up at me boldly. "I'm going to help you through to the end, in whatever way I can."

Gaz and I both grinned with relief. "We're glad we have you, Ira," I told him. "Why don't you work with my dad and find your footing? We'll get the plan sorted out and then get the hell outta here. Oh, and Tenn?" I asked into my watch.

"Yeah?"

"Can I get you to give Charlotte any updates you think are necessary? Filtering stuff before it gets to Danvers, of course, but Charlotte can kn—"

Suddenly, Ira perked up. His head shot up, his soft purple eyes went wide, and he latched a vice grip onto Dad's forearm with both hands, exclaiming, _"Danvers?_ Did you say—"

"I… yeah?" I said. "Why?"

_"Lisa_ Danvers?" Ira cried frantically.

"W-well, her first name starts with an L…" I recalled, "so, maybe?"

"Brown, curly hair?"

"Yeah?"

"Grey eyes?"

"Y-yeah…?"

Ira's eyes welled up at once, and he eased up on Dad's arm. To stay restrained, he bowed his head. Taking in a deep, wavering breath, he added, "And the most… perfect smile, and…"

"Ira, you, uh, you know her?" I wondered. Beside me, Gaz gasped.

Stoically, Ira nodded. He pushed his bangs away from his right eye, then glanced from me, to Gaz, to my father. "Have you all talked to her?" he wondered.

Gaz shook her head, but Dad nodded tensely. "And I feel awful," he admitted. "I fell and relapsed so hard, I didn't—"

"What?" Gaz wanted to know.

Ira looked back at me and my sister, and forced a smile. "Lisa Danvers is… or," he added, more solemnly, "or she was… my girlfriend. Fiancée. Oh, God…"

Guilt tugged at my chest, despite my never having known. If Charlotte had known, of course she would never have brought it up; she was all about protecting who we were, and I'd been the one agreeing and then insisting that we should not mention the Tallest when Red and Ira had first come to be involved with the SEC. Dad, looking even worse for the wear, I could even find myself forgiving, too.

I still hadn't asked my father all of the details of his years of working himself ragged for the media, but I had a feeling that the more he lost touch with himself, the less he was able to keep a grip even on details of his own past.

Gaz, however, cried, "And you didn't even notice, Dad? How long've you guys been talking to her?"

"I feel terrible," Dad said, "but I lost touch with Lisa a long time ago. Her last name slipped my mind even before she left for Harvard—"

"She went to Harvard?" Ira exclaimed, somewhat proudly.

"Yeah," Dad said with a sad smile.

Ira smiled a bit as well, and I heard him say to himself, "That's my girl…"

He projected longing and sadness, though, so profoundly that it hurt for me to know I wasn't in a position to just send him home right then and there. Ira yanked on my father's arm, saying, "Can we talk?" as the two began to take their walk around the room. That was probably best. I was sure that Ira would be feeling a lot of mixed emotions upon his becoming human again, but this was something that might set him over the edge. He was a strong person, though, so I felt confident that he'd be able to hold himself up—physically and emotionally—soon enough.

Lex stepped closer to me, and slid both of her hands around only my right. I realized I'd been holding my breath somewhat, and breathed it out slowly as I kissed my girlfriend's hair. I was proud of her, too, for holding up so well for so long, knowing that her father still lay in a coma and that we both were eager to have Ira back, since hopefully he could shed some light on Victor's ailment that none among the rest of us could.

But we knew we couldn't linger on thoughts of much-wanted (and long-deserved) reunions. "All right," I said, easing us back into planning. "Red, what should w—Red?"

Red had been staring off at where Ira was walking, looking like he'd just lost something. He snapped back into the conversation with a quick, jarring, "Sorry, sorry. What?"

"What to _you?"_ Gaz wondered, giving him an odd glare.

"Nothing," Red insisted. "I just—I'm gonna be feeling bad about this for a while."

"Good," my sister muttered.

Red looked like he wanted to retaliate, but held it in. "Right," he said through his teeth, shifting gears. "We're not gonna wanna stick around here, that's for sure. Sooner we're off the ship, the better."

"We?" Gaz asked, tapping into my own thoughts.

"Shouldn't you stay here?" I wondered. "You know. Cuz you're kinda the Tallest?"

Red shook his head. "Right now, it's anarchy," he stated, slowly. I was a little shocked to know Red even knew what that word meant, for a second, being such a hell-bent dictator, but when I worked it around in my head another way, I realized I really did kind of owe Red more credit than I tended to give him. Under the ego, he was probably quite smart, and with the Control Brains starting to be shut down, there was no saying he wouldn't start showing that side of him more. "Yeah, the Brains are down, but just this section on the _Massive,"_ he continued. "They declared a mutiny alarm before the last blow, meaning—"

"Are we fucked?" Skutch asked bluntly over the communicator. Oops, I'd forgotten to turn that off when I called Tenn…

"If we stay," Red said as patiently as he could. "The ship's not mine to command anymore, and it's going to go into lockdown. Technically, I have no power right now. Sucks to say it, but I don't."

His tone seemed more—for lack of a better word, free. Just one of the four Brain centers down, and already it was clear that Irkens had a more vast range of emotions than they'd previously been able to let on. Then again, Red was an Original. The Brains had even chastised him for that. The fact that they looked down on Originality in the gene pool bothered me. Plus, my thoughts became flooded with questions about my mother.

Clearly, Miyuki was an Original. In fact, she'd probably been closer to a human pattern in terms of thoughts and empathy right from the very start. It was probable that she had become Tallest solely so that the Brains could keep tabs on her; to keep her in check. Where had Zim come in as Commander, then? I mean, I'd seen him change from a brash, single-minded idiot to one of the most empathetic people I knew, but he was still _himself,_ or so I hoped. So what about my mom?

Watching Red begin to show more of who he must really have been actually made me start worrying about Miyuki in a way that I hadn't since I was little. Being on Earth and meeting my dad must have been the very definition of freedom for her; no wonder she went a little nuts and locked herself up in her Mirror for several years. She _cared._ She'd just been told for so long that she couldn't, and when the Irkens re-entered her life, she probably gave into fear and ran.

Maybe it was such that all Irkens _could_ care, and feel, and love, whether it be for other people or other places or just simply a range of ideas, but their programming instilled so much fear in acting upon that kind of emotion that they even forgot what fear itself was. And that, in itself, was terrifying.

The look on my sister's face told me that she was thinking the same thing. Her eyes passed from Red to Ira and our dad, then down to the ring she wore, which she twisted around. She fumbled with her watch, too. Despite having one on him, Zim had not yet called, and I knew that that was bothering Gaz, who moved from the watch to her ring again. She had to reassure herself that Zim could hold his own as he fought the one battle most Irkens probably needed to. In his own way, Red, too, was fighting himself. The government he had known and served his entire life was nothing but a master program, of which he'd been only a small cog.

And the fact that he addressed this made me respect him. Not just as a leader, not just as a person, but as a friend. I was convinced, after that fight, that Red could overcome his past follies in order to be our strongest and possibly most influential ally.

"I don't want to be the leader of an Empire that refuses to be led," the Tallest went on. "If I stay right now, I'm going to be outnumbered and am not exactly 'proper system material,' so most likely even the guards are gonna pass judgment on me. There isn't a place for me right now. The other three Brain centers are going to take things over."

"So… we've just gotta stop them as soon as we can?" Gaz guessed.

"Destroy the Talismans and take down the centers? Yes," Red nodded.

"Won't there just be more panic and riot," Lex wondered, "the further into the fight things go?"

"Oh, there will be," said Red. "Nothing we can do about that except try to hold the masses off, and get to Devastis and Station Nine as quick as we can, so we can deal with the ones back on Irk and get this whole thing over with."

"And you're sure you're willing to do that?" I checked with him.

Red drew in a deep breath, and looked out the window. "Doesn't matter how big the Empire gets," he said, "or how many people I command. I'm starting to get that it's how I do it. Look, Zim wants a second chance at life, and that's why he joined your side a long time ago. My shitty leadership probably had a lot to do with that, but at least that idiot's finding his way." Ira and my father could be seen walking back over to us. They were keeping a slow enough pace, but Ira was looking more confident with every step. And Red noticed. Noticed, and glanced away. Looking back at us again, Red declared, "I need this to be my second chance. I need to be a stronger leader, but I need the Empire to be open to change first. I don't want to just be running a machine anymore."

"Red—?" Ira tried, looking surprised at the Tallest's declaration.

"No. It's true. I'm going to fix this, and I'm going to do it with you guys. I'm coming with you, and I'm going to fight to earn my fucking position back."

That said, the Tallest glanced down at the gauntlet covering his right forearm. Narrowing his sharp red eyes and holding his breath, he tapped it with one of the two long fingers on his left hand, which caused a compartment to open up, revealing a small screen with a holographic switch. "Hope the damn Brains didn't lock the one program I actually need," he muttered.

He touched the screen, which toggled the switch. The compartment snapped closed, and in a flash, Red's entire image changed. Tenn, I knew, was capable of creating a solidified hologram (as was Tak, but I hated giving her credit), and Red, it seemed, had at some point in our time apart done the same. He'd installed a program that copied the human appearance the Cabochon had given him; he was dressed in the same casual way—red shirt, simple jeans—and had his guns now affixed to holsters on a belt at his hips. Red grinned a little, glad to have use of that program, and tested out his hands, curling and un-curling his fingers… which, honestly, to me, was the most impressive part of the hologram: use of all five; for Tenn it was already something, but I couldn't imagine going from working only two fingers to five. (Thanks, Dad, for the over-active science brain. I'm in the middle of a war and I'm wondering how holograms can mimic nerve endings.) Pleased with himself, Red straightened the rectangular glasses he now wore, and said, "Right. Good to go."

"Well, this is a surprise," Ira commented.

Red shrugged. "Whatever," he said. "The Irkens won't know I'm me."

"Good point."

"Tak will," I pointed out.

"Let her," Red scoffed. "I'm ready to give her a piece of my mind."

"So aren't we all," I said. "Let's get moving, guys. We can talk on the flight."

"To Devastis?" Gaz checked.

Before we could move, Red gave the ruined Control Brain room a final look over. Then, with a nod, he agreed, "To Devastis."

– – –

Once we were well into flight, though, Ira did finally let go and cry. I didn't blame him; he needed to. Dad sat on one side of him, Gaz on the other, comforting him and assuring him that while he had the time to let it out, he should. Soothingly, Gaz combed back her godfather's hair to tie it into a low ponytail with an elastic she'd probably been keeping with her for just such a need. Red, sitting directly across from those three, tried not to react.

Ira was in sore condition, but he was insisting on fighting through it. I couldn't blame him, but at the same time I still felt pretty awful for the fact that he couldn't just go home and catch himself up. His life had changed almost too drastically, too many times. He needed a break.

"I'm sorry," I heard Red say to him, just before the silence could get too unbearable on the flight. Ira said nothing; nobody did. I stole a look back, over my shoulder. Red looked restless, but did not move. He hung his head, staring at his hands, and repeated, "I'm sorry, Ira."

Ira drew in a deep breath, and let it out, done with crying and knowing that he needed to keep his mind on other things. "Can you do me a favor," he asked, trying not to sound bitter, "and save it? I don't want to hear it yet."

"But I really am—"

"Save it," Ira demanded. "Save it for when all the Brains are gone and I know it's _all_ coming from you, and you mean it."

Red shut his mouth, looked away, then finally stood and situated himself behind my pilot's seat, watching out the window with me and Lex. I agreed with what Ira had said, but did not tell Red so. I was trying so hard to just keep focused on what needed to be done. Keep focused. The sooner we could complete our missions, the sooner we could return to our lives.

The sooner our races would be allies, too, I reminded myself.

It wasn't long until a gleaming planet came into view. A series of lights could be seen from its immediate orbit, situated in circuit-like patterns, casting a pale green into the sky. My control panel flashed upon our approach, alerting me that we were nearing a destination. Skutch and Tenn had gone ahead, so I locked onto Skutch's ship in order to secure a proper landing.

"She's here," Red announced, as I began the descent.

"Tak?" Lex wondered.

"Yep. She's gotta be."

"Can you actually tell?" I asked the Tallest. "PAK thing, or something like that?"

Red shook his head. "It's just a feeling, and the only possible move she can make," he said. "To be honest, we kept her locked up as long as we could, since I knew she'd head straight here once the fight started. She's awful, but I have to give her credit for knowing what she wants."

I nodded, but had to concentrate on my landing. There was no activity on the planet, which seemed odd to me. I would have thought that a military training planet would be bursting with activity during wartime. The silence made me fear for whatever control Tak still may have had. We knew that she still had followers. The question was where they were, and how great they were in number.

Devastis felt imposing. When I landed, I was surrounded on all sides by towering buildings, with several smaller, pod-like rows of structures that snaked out from what appeared to be the central training city, every door and window giving off a hum that reverberated with Control Brain influence.

If the Brains were anywhere, it had to be somewhere in this central area, right? Unless they kept themselves secluded, far away from the hundreds of hopeful Elites and Invaders that passed through this planet at any given time.

Dad stocked us all with more of his oxygen tablets, and we made our way off the ship. I immediately felt a pressure, standing on the metallic surface we had landed on, gripping again at my lungs and heart the same way the _Massive_ had upon our arrival there. The Brains were seeking us out. I wondered if they could sense that Red was with us; wondered further if they knew Ira's punishment had been broken.

They knew that Gaz and I were Miyuki's heirs, though. Maybe that would be enough to distract them.

"Where the hell is everyone?" Red asked aloud.

"Okay, I'm nervous now," I admitted. "Is there supposed to be training in session?"

"There's always training in session," said the Tallest. "Something's definitely not right."

"D'you think Tak had anything to do with it?" Gaz wondered, steeling herself as she took a look around.

"Top of my list, yeah," said Ira, already fully focused on the battle we knew was coming. "Besides, Devastis is where—"

"Dib?" Tenn called through the communicator.

"Tenn!" I yelped. "What's going on?"

"I could use a hand over here, if you guys're landed!"

"Why? Everything okay?" I had to know.

"You're not gonna like this."

"We'll be right there."

Tenn sent me the coordinates to her location, and I waved for the others to follow me to her landing site. Her tank of a ship was not far from ours; we needed only to run an equivalent of about half a mile around large metal buildings, topped with spires and ranging in hues across a spectrum of blue, pale green and grey. Due to the size of the ship she'd been using, I spotted her easily.

She had deployed a good number of her branch of the army. Our men and women had taken up stations at the doors of some of the training pods, while others guarded the ship. Tenn herself, dressed as proudly in the SEC uniform jacket as anyone, rushed up to us from her own station at the door to the ship. Agent Cthulhu stepped in to relieve her as the ex-Invader showed to me the worst look of panic I'd ever seen from her.

"Everything all right?" I wondered, knowing my words were probably meaningless.

Tenn shook her head frantically. "I hate to say this," she said. "We're not exactly going to be in for the most comfortable visit here."

"Wasn't expecting to be, really," I admitted. "I mean, these Brains still have a lock on them, right?"

"Yeah. Plus," Tenn added, "Miyuki hid away a bunch of her best inventions here."

"Shit, that's right," I remembered.

"Her experiments were all about time, space, and one's place in the universe," Red recalled from behind me.

Tenn's head shot up when she saw him. "You okay?" she wondered, cocking an eyebrow.

"Hologram," Red told her. Tenn shrugged it off. "This guy's human, though," the Tallest added, indicating Ira, who gave Tenn a slight wave.

Tenn smiled a little, though her nerves were still clear. "Nice," she said. "Congrats on that."

"Thank you," Ira said, with a smile of his own. "What's the real trouble, here, though? You seem upset."

Tenn forced a sigh. "Upset doesn't even cover it, guys, this is serious," she told us. "The Talisman locking the Devastis Brains is the Elite sword, _Osdraken."_ Gaz and I glanced at each other briefly. My sister's own expression began to mirror Tenn's.

"Zim… isn't back yet?" Gaz asked warily.

"Not that I know of," Tenn explained as calmly as she could, "but what I'm more worried about is GIR."

"Oh, shit," I breathed out. "He didn't—"

"He did. There was nothing anyone on board could do. It's a wonder he didn't take out the whole ship."

"Tenn, he—"

Tenn nodded, and folded her arms to close her panic in. "GIR woke up," she said. "He woke up the second we landed, shot at a couple of our men, and took off. I'm sorry, I should've—"

"No, don't worry about it," I told her. "Like you said, there was nothing you could've done. Any casualties?"

"Two wounded, none dead."

"Then, see? That's all right. We'll find him."

Red cleared his throat. "Well, whatever we do," he said strongly, "we'd better move to look for him _now._ Brains can wait. If GIR's awake and back to the way the Commander had him programmed, he should take priority. And we'd better find and secure Miyuki's inventions before he gets to them, or before Tak can."

"Divide and conquer, again, then?" Dad guessed.

"You got it," I said. "Let's get started."

If it wasn't one disaster, it was another. The Empire was in a state of uprising and mutiny, but we were lucky to have Red with us, and therefore safe from—I hated to think it—possible execution for rising against the Brains. Tenn and Skutch were with us, and since they and Red knew Devastis the way I knew my own Corporation's grounds, I got the three of them to lead the new missions.

I sent Dad, Lex and Ira with Tenn, giving them the Western side of the central training city, while having Skutch lead a small group to the Eastern side, along with Gaz. Red and I went on alone, toward the center. Exchanges of good luck were given, as well as promises to stay in constant communication.

I knew that any of us would be prepared to go up against Tak once she showed herself again. Tak and MiMi, while devious, were at least predictable opponents, in that we had experience fighting them before. GIR was a new threat, and probably as random with attacks as he once had been with words.

"I should have trusted him," I found myself muttering, as Red led me down a narrow street, nestled between rows upon rows of curving grey-blue skyscrapers that gave off light enough to mimic a new sky.

"Who?" Red wondered, keeping his voice down.

"Zim," I clarified. "When he said that GIR was the main cause of… just, I should've trusted him more."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, or this is gonna be a long trip," Red advised me. "Keep your head up and let's just find that stupid robot and get these Brains out of the way. I'm worried about Zim, too, you know. Didn't think I ever would, but I am kinda starting to admire what he's doing. So he'd better not fuck it up."

"Hey, Red?" I asked.

"What, kid?"

"You're an Original, right?" He didn't respond, and his silence read, pretty clearly, _of course I am, moron._ "Are all abilities mental, or in the PAK system? Like, for Skoodge it was that undying PAK—"

"Skoodge was a failure and I'm glad I didn't end up anything like him," Red interrupted. He then sighed, and tilted his head back to look up at the skyscrapers. "Most abilities are mental, though. I hate to even call the PAK abnormalities 'Originals' in the same way we are, but that's the only label we've got. I had to hide my ability when I was here training," he recalled. "I didn't want to kill anyone for a really long time, but I got threatened into keeping up with my class."

"That's horrible," I told him.

"The Brains probably knew I was going to be a Tallest someday, and rather than know I'd be a 'problem,' they tried to control my actions even back then," he said, shaking his head. "I really do need to make amends."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

Red was quiet for a little while, and pressed onward. I followed without asking any more. The silvery metal path we walked opened up into a larger city center after another several paces, but before we could continue into it, Red surveyed the land and said, "Pity."

"What is?" I wondered.

"No, Dib, that's my ability," Red said bluntly, glancing back at me. "I'm just now coming to terms with it. I feel pity. I feel empathy. I feel guilt. I had to ignore it to become a more hardened soldier, and I can't exactly go back from that, not all at once. I'm starting to want to, though. It's driving me crazy, having all that stuff open and here and part of me, but whatever, I'll deal. I need to just act on it and not let the Brains pressure me into false leadership without compassion anymore. I kind of owe it to a lot of people."

"You feel it for Ira, don't you?" I guessed. "Empathy."

Red turned away from me. "Yeah, Dib, I do," he said, "but I don't wanna talk about that right now. Or yet. Or—whatever. Come on. There's an underground entrance around here somewhere. We should start there."

I did not argue.

But I did wonder if Red, the further into the center of Devastis we walked, was feeling the same kind of pressure I was. The overbearing reminder that the Brains were still very much active in this area. The weight of the air was judgment. I was being held to a standard, and the Brains did not like how different I was than their subjects; their system.

I was worse than an Original, to them. I had a soul, something the Brains had long since taken away from Irken society. I was definitely not welcome.

Red waved me over to an oval door in the side of a building much longer than it was tall. The entire structure felt like a coil. The planet itself was a circuit, I realized, given the pattern the lights had cast from out of orbit. Training pods made up the ends, like nerves, while the source of the power lay at the center. One big circuit. One large computerized brain.

The whole planet had been constructed by the Control Brains. The structure of the buildings was enough to convince me of that. It had been constructed by them, more than likely in their attempt to standardize even the testing for the Empire's military. If something went wrong, the impurity was removed, easy as that. Disgusting.

Though the thought was not so horrible as the sight that lay in wait for us beyond the door. Red tried a keypad to the right of the door, and when it denied him entrance, he felt around the edges, discovered a crack, and shoved his entire body weight into it, causing the door to give. "I coulda blasted it," I offered.

"The less I have to spend on repairs later, the better," Red shrugged. Then, "Ow." He rubbed at the shoulder he'd shoved into the door with, and rolled it back a couple times.

"Right," I scoffed, "because it's so much better to save your money than to take care of yourself so you can fight."

"Okay, smartass, you can blast the next one," Red grumbled.

"You're just upset you can't," I said, and immediately wished I hadn't.

Red took it in stride, though. "I've got my guns," he said. "As long as the Brains don't take the program that lets me look human away, I'll be fine for a while."

"I wouldn't let on to them that you like it, then," I suggested. "Otherwise—"

"Good point. Come on."

We found ourselves in a dark hallway, where spherical lights were soldered into the ceiling, casting too soft a greenish glow around us. The air began to change around me as the hallway began to open up into a more brightly lit area.

The light wasn't the best sign for us, though. Red stayed ahead of me, hands hovering over his weapons for the instant he'd have to draw. At the end of the hallway was a room set up like an auditorium. We were on a platform at the back, and then the room dipped down to create a shallow standing area around a raised 'stage,' too square and small for more than one person to stand on at a time, but occupied completely by something encaged in electric blue bars.

Some kind of machine. I felt an instant familiarity with it—it had to be one of my mother's. It wasn't anything like the generator that Tak had used to turn Zim human, though. It was very simple in design, like a standing computer, about eight feet in height. About the shape and thickness of a filing cabinet, an oval screen was cut into the center, which I mistook at first to be a mirror.

The screen flickered and flashed, showing image upon image of worlds that looked both ancient and new, of creatures even I could never dream up and of some that, even in a split second flash, I could have sworn were of Earth.

Impressive as it was, I couldn't even concentrate on the machine, not with what lay around us.

Filling the entire 'audience' section of the room were bodies. Unmoving. All of them Irken. I could not tell how long they had been there, but it had to have been a recent slaughter. I looked for signs of Tak's or MiMi's influence, only to realize that I had no previous experience with fully studying any kind of sign of their handiwork.

This answered the question of where others on the planet may have been, I supposed. "Shit…" I whispered.

"What the hell happened here…?" Red added under his breath.

The lights snapped off around us. Red and I, both panicked, pressed up back to back against each other, and I heard him charge his guns. The air around me was dense and murky with death but I could not think about that as I read the frantic static activity around me.

But I did not have time to gather the energy for attack. I was yanked forward, spun, and dealt a blow to the back of my head. The oval screen on my mother's invention flickered back on as I fell to the ground unconscious.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Terribly sorry for the delay! I do try to put up a warning in my profile when I know I won't be able to post on time; hopefully that went up at a good enough time at least, ahhh ^^;;

Haha, this was a Red-heavy chapter, but I have such fun writing Red. XD And we're into Devastis! One of my favorite bits in Part 4… and oh, yes, next week we get back into Zim's narration, to check in on how he's holding up in the Mirror… :3 I'll try to get next week's up early to account for this week's late post~ ^^

See you all next **Friday, July 27****th****!** :3 Thank you so much for reading!

~Jizena

– – –


	6. The Mirror 2: Commander

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

The Commander swung down at me, but I dodged out of the way. I skidded off to the side, re-gained my bearings, and lunged back at him.

We had been fighting for what felt like hours. I would feel bouts of fatigue every few minutes, but he did not give up, and therefore neither could I. Time surely had not dragged on as much as it seemed, but no matter how long it took, I was determined to use my time in the Mirror wisely, and dispose of that awful burden on my past once and for all.

All I wanted to do was end this fight and return to the others. I was confident that I'd have a ride, no matter where I ended up once I stepped out of the Mirror again. It was mostly likely that I'd still be on Station Nine, but the Mirror had been known to change locations either at will or to Miyuki's specifications. Then again, if the Commander had made the Mirror show me a scene from the past, perhaps it was a Talisman that could be spoken to.

Spoken to, sure, but certainly not reasoned with.

"Funny," the Commander sneered at me as I came back at him from his last attack, "how fear can fuel even the weakest of creatures, such as yourself. This—" and here he grabbed me by the neck, _"thing_ that you've let yourself become!"

On a heavy breath, the Commander flung me down to the ground, and I felt the wind get knocked out of me. My eyes blurred for a second, but snapped back into focus in time to notice his sword coming down on me again. I rolled out of the way, tumbled onto my knees, and slashed at his shins, feeling the cuts open up immediately on my own. I cried out when the leaked blood on my legs began to sting, and the Commander merely laughed, and scooped me up by the front of my shirt.

I scrambled to get my feet planted on the ground, but found myself otherwise trapped. "I'll be civil," my dark reflection grinned. "I can tell you the rest of the story before you die."

He whirled me around and grabbed me instead by the nape of the neck as our surroundings shifted to once again show me the reflection of the Station's memory. "Look, I don't care!" I snapped. "Let go of me and let's just finish this!"

"No, no," said the Commander. That bastard was buying himself time by doing this. While I could not move, however, I decided I could at least take this chance to catch my breath. "Fear is what will finish you, human. I'm here to help it along."

The scene opened up again before us, exactly where it had blinked out before. Tallest Miyuki stood with her Elite Commander and the formidable-looking GIR. Lard Nar had moved beyond discussing plans for the _Massive, _and now stood before an impressive column, boasting a glowing orb encased in hovering locked glass.

_"Let's get out of here,"_ the Commander insisted. _"This Vortian is doing nothing but wasting our time."_

_ "This device creates infinite energy,"_ said Lard Nar, eyeing the Commander cruelly. _"It is certainly not a waste of time."_

_ "I still hold that you'd make an excellent meal for my robot,"_ said the Commander, sounding unimpressed.

_"Commander,"_ said Miyuki, calmly, _"please. Lard Nar, though your invention is beautiful, it should be destroyed. It could tamper with the known dimensions, and could cause wars unnecessary to our normal plans. Please dispose of it."_

_ "You can't destroy something of infinite energy!" _Lard Nar protested._ "But, if you insist, Miyuki, I shall show you its counterpart." _That said, Lard Nar called to a fellow scientist, who brought him a small, blob-like animal of stumpy stature and pale, sickly coloring. The Infinite Energy Absorbing Creature. I had been led to believe that I had created that thing, while on trial. All lies. How the hell had Lard Nar won…?_ "Here we are. Isn't it cute?"_

_ "It looks diseased,"_ the Commander scowled._ "Miyuki, we're leaving._

Miyuki looked over at her Commander, and smiled. The Commander did nothing to react but nod. The Tallest bid goodbye to Lard Nar, telling him he could begin work on her fleet commanding vessel. The Commander took one last look back at Lard Nar and his disgusting Creature, and when he did, Lard Nar pinched the Creature, and it snarled.

_"You've provoked it!" _Lard Nar cried, then muttered something in his ancient Vortian native tongue, and the Creature lunged. I saw Lard Nar smirk as the thing attacked.

_ "Damn it!" _the Commander shouted. _"GIR!" _The robot saluted, and jumped Lard Nar. While those two were occupied, the Commander rushed in front of his Tallest, saying, _"Do you understand what you've done, Lard Nar? Pitiful Vortian, you've just sealed your place as enemies to the Empire."_

_ "Commander!"_ Miyuki exclaimed. _"I'll have no talks of war! Not yet!"_

_ "Just stay back, my Tallest."_

As the Creature lunged toward the two Irkens, he rushed forward and struck out with _Osdraken,_ slicing the Creature in half. The two halves flew past and merged together again behind the Commander. Just before he could attack it again, it jumped up to the glass chamber and ate the Infinite Energy Creating Device.

The Creature grew larger and larger, and every time the Commander tried to strike it, it would just merge back together. Lard Nar tossed GIR aside and feigned surprise as the enormous thing turned its attention to Miyuki. She began to blast it, and GIR fired his cannons, but nothing stopped the Creature. The Commander jumped up onto its fleshy neck, noticing a jewel that could possibly be a weak part just where its head connected to the rest of its body. Again, the Creature acted before he could strike it; it opened its enormous mouth and devoured Miyuki.

_"MIYUKI!"_ the Commander cried out_. "You piece of shit! Release her!"_ He let his blade fall, into the center of the jewel. No sooner had _Osdraken_ touched the rubbery skin of the Creature than it disappeared, and the Commander fell to the ground.

Miyuki was nowhere to be seen. _"Miyuki!"_ he called out.

_"Oh, dear, Commander,"_ Lard Nar said, his dark voice obviously hiding a devious plan. He was making himself sound surprised, but the Commander seemed too shocked to see that he was acting. _"Don't you realize what you've done? If only you hadn't lashed out! By disposing of that Creature, you've killed Tallest Miyuki!"_

_ "I've killed her?"_ the Commander said doubtfully. _"You speak only lies. Your race speaks nothing but LIES, you insignificant waste of a scientist!"_ The Commander took up his sword and dashed forward at the Vortian. Catching on, GIR opened fire. _"Where is she? I'd know if she were dead," _the Commander scowled. He knocked Lard Nar to the ground and held _Osdraken_ at the scientist's throat. _"You have five seconds to tell me the truth. Five."_

_ "She is nowhere,"_ grinned Lard Nar. _"You cannot save her."_

_ "Four."_

_ "She is dead. The Empire has lost its power."_

_ "Three. Not while I live and breathe."_

_ "Oh, no?"_

_ "TWO. You try my patience!"_ the Commander barked.

_"You should never have sacrificed your heart, Commander."_

_ "ONE!"_

_ "Guards!" _Lard Nar called out as the Commander raised his sword._ "See what the grand Elite Commander has done! He's killed his own Tallest! Murderer! Civil war shall surely come to the Empire!"_

_ "SILENCE!"_

But the Commander was too late. An army of guards, some of them similar to the three-headed creature from the Resisty that had attacked me when I'd returned to Earth, the rest of them Irkens.

_"I am still your Commander,"_ snarled my past reflection to the Irken guards. _"Cease this foolishness. Tallest Miyuki is much too powerful to have been—"_

_ "Killed by anyone but you,"_ said a red-eyed guard.

Infuriated, the Commander stabbed the guard through the chest, flung him into another guard, and spun his sword to attack again, the hilt appearing to catch fire. He put up a long fight, but the guards outnumbered him. _Osdraken_ was pried from his hands, and a restraint was clamped onto his PAK. Cuffs were locked around his wrists and tightened. The Commander thrashed against the shackles and bit a guard in the shoulder, then thrust a knee up into his gut.

The guard reeled, and GIR sprang back into action, attempting to pick the locks of the Commander's wrist cuffs. But the robot was caught, his head opened, and his memory disc removed.

_"Sell this thing for spare parts,"_ one guard instructed another. _"The Commander's going straight to the Spike of Judgment."_

"Incredible, isn't it?" my reflection growled into my ear. "Brought down by one tiny, frightened Vortian. It was humiliating."

"What… what happened then?" I found myself wondering.

The Commander snorted. "What do you think?"

Our surroundings began to swirl about again, casting a new memory everywhere around us. We had moved. Everywhere I looked, I could see the recreation of the top-notch Military Prison beneath the great Spike of Judgment. Within the Spike was a vast room full of Control Brains which later were moved to the _Massive,_ and were the only pod of Brains able to change their location.

Before being brought before them for his execution, however, the Commander was forced to wait out the rest of his short, doomed life in a prison cell. He was kept in heavy restraints, his PAK covered with a locked metal shield, his arms bound behind his back, ankles locked and bound by a short length of chain that allowed him very little movement, body chained barely two feet away from a solid wall. Around him were blue electric bars, which sent out jolts strong enough to short-circuit a PAK.

Into the scene stepped Lard Nar, one arm in a sling to feign an injury, a grin upon his face._ "Look what we have here,"_ he said harshly._ "If it isn't the once-proud Elite Commander, caught in my own prison. Wonderful sight, I've got to say."_

_ "Shut up," _the Commander snapped, his ancient Irken accent heavy but clear.

_ "Your temper will get you nowhere, Commander," _said Lard Nar._ "After all, the entire Empire thinks you've killed your beloved Miyuki. I look forward to killing you myself."_

_ "Beloved, nothing,"_ the Commander snarled. _"You framed me."_

_ "Oh, dear, you've caught me."_

_ "Why?"_

Lard Nar laughed._ "I've always hated you Irkens. What better way to cause a good civil war among you than to dispose of your race's two most powerful officers?"_

The Commander let out a roar of rage, then spat at Lard Nar's feet._ "My soldiers will correct this injustice,"_ he said.

_"I think not, Commander Zim—"_

_ "You __**dare**__ to address me by name?"_ Only Miyuki ever did.

_ "I dare more than your own Elite would,"_ Lard Nar snickered, sliding his arm out of its sling and stretching both arms up over his head. The Commander tugged at his chains as if to advance, but he could not budge further than a couple inches. _"You have no army, you know. Nobody in the Empire likes you."_

_ "I could not care less,"_ the Commander barked. _"I AM THE EMPIRE."_

Lard Nar shook his head. _"This is good,"_ he said, his arm going back into the sling. _"You're only furthering your case. Goodbye to your Tallest, goodbye to your tyranny. I have ended the Irken Empire. You are the Empire you say? Then when I destroy you, so shall I destroy it all."_

Again the Commander yanked at his chains, but did not move. _"I'll kill you for this, Lard Nar. I won't stand for this. You will die, by my own hand!"_

_ "Apologies, Commander, but it seems it will be the other way around." _When Lard Nar left, he glanced back once, giving me, as he had given the Commander in the memory, a glimpse of one small look of fear. Even with the Commander chained and awaiting execution for the murder of the Tallest, Lard Nar feared defeat.

Lard Nar was a coward, and had not thought to any steps beyond having the Commander killed.

And the Commander had known that. I had known that. I had known that, somehow, there could yet be a way to put an end to Lard Nar's personal vendetta against the Irken Empire. Hatred for the small Vortian rose in the Commander that day, and did not die; could not rest until the truth about Miyuki was revealed.

"You feel it, don't you?" the Commander hissed at me. "That hatred, that rage. That idiot scientist rose up against the Empire. Framed me for killing the one person I never would raise my sword against. All I knew was that I needed to live."

"But," I found myself saying, as the memory around us shifted again, "since only the Commander was condemned—"

"Exactly. I could not be that person if I wanted to much as I didn't want to erase everything, it seemed the best way for me to escape from the gallows, even though it did mean I was running and hiding."

"You resigned."

"Yes."

But that hadn't been all. The Commander had resigned from his position and erased his own knowledge of ever having held that position. Of ever having served Tallest Miyuki in such a way. Of ever having been attached to her.

And he told only two people. They both appeared in the memory the Mirror showed me:

Red was one, appearing as he had during his days as an Elite: the red symbol was clearly marked on his forehead, and even then he was of a fairly decent height… about half that of the Commander, while the other Irken who entered was of slightly smaller stature.

My heart skipped.

Tak.

_ "You're going to get out of this, right?" _asked Red.

_"In a way," _the Commander replied._ "My choices are limited right now. I must lower myself before I can rise again."_

_ "You can't be serious," _said Tak, trying to laugh and make what he'd said into a joke. But he'd always been serious, and when her expression changed, I could tell that she still knew it.

_ "Shut up!" _the Commander snapped. _"If you don't remain silent about this, our entire race could be facing destruction in a few years."_

_ "Y-yes, sir..." _she said carefully. Cautiously.

I saw something interesting in Tak, through the Mirror: she wanted to trust, but didn't allow herself to. Specifically, she wanted to put faith in the Commander.

I didn't want to think about it.

_"Have you found my Recon unit?"_ the Commander asked the two soldiers. There must have been meetings before this; I knew right away that it was GIR he was speaking of. _Recon?_

_"I have collected most of his spare parts,"_ Tak assured the Commander. _"He can be whole again soon."_

_ "And the disc?"_

_ "Damaged,"_ said Red, pulling it from a pocket of his uniform. _"It may take years to reawaken and fix."_

_ "But it recorded the event?"_

_ "It did."_

_ "Hold onto it,"_ the Commander instructed. _"When the repairs are complete, you are to find and restore both him and me. This is your only and final mission. Do I make myself clear?"_

_ "Restore you?"_ Tak repeated, looking at the Commander longingly.

_"I'll be no good to you dead. I'll erase what's mine and entrust it to you."_

_ "Erase? ERASE?"_ Tak screamed. _"You did not kill Tallest Miyuki! You are not guilty, Commander!"_

_ "Supposedly not,"_ he said, keeping a level tone. _"But there are no trials here."_

_ "Then escape!"_

_ "That is exactly what I am doing. Mind yourself that you don't falter in your loyalty."_

Tak had no answer. Her eyes, one simple little look, told me that she felt betrayed and abandoned. Red held his own, but that was the very moment when Tak became bitter and vengeful toward me.

It did not get better. Her own rage grew, after that event. She left without another word. Red was more dutiful, and showed a look of guilt. _"You're well on your way to becoming a Tallest, I can tell," _the Commander noted._ "Should this come to pass, see to it that the proper measures are taken."_

Shaking a bit, Red said,_ "I don't know, Commander... you are being awfully abrupt about all this. I don't want to, but I could grow to hate you as well..."_

_ "Red, I warn you..."_

_ "N-never mind, sir," _he apologized, bowing._ "Perhaps, if I do become Tallest, I'll devote my own ability to you; maybe that could keep you protected."_

The Commander grinned, and then my mind went black. The space around me pushed air against me, and the memory seeped from the Mirror and into my mind, behaving as the flashes that had come and gone on Earth. It was forcing me to see the remainder of my days as Commander through my own mind's eye:

_ I spoke to Red my plan, knowing that my memories would be too easily accessible if I kept the chip in my PAK, so I'd devised a way to merge the memory chip into my sword, and then destroy it, so that I could only regain my memories if that thing returned to me, whole. I had been granted a final request before my execution, and so I had asked that Osdraken be in my cell with me._

_ Red agreed to let the other Elites in on what was to become of me, then promised that he would send someone back to help get me out of my situation, should the Vortian jury still declare that I be killed. After he'd left, I remained alone with my thoughts for a moment, then shook my head, preparing to dispose of everything._

_ Lard Nar himself brought me my sword. "Let's see you get out of this one, Commander," he sneered._

_ "Make it interesting and unlock my PAK," I challenged him._

_ "You'll never escape from here, Commander."_

_ "No," I agreed. "I won't."_

_ Lard Nar left, but flicked a switch on the wall that tauntingly removed only one portion of the PAK restraint._

_ That, unknown to the Vortian, was all that I needed._

_ I worked my life backwards, making sure every minute detail would be stored in one memory chip in my PAK, and already I was beginning to forget important parts of my past. It was painless, for the most part._

_ With the last of my energy, I willed every one of my now shattered, wavering memories into my sword, my extended self. We had acted as one; as three: myself, my sword, and my robot. There, in Osdraken, my memories would remain, thus making it impossible for me to ever fully remember who or what I once was without it. I wanted to remember nothing of what I felt for Miyuki, nothing of my early life, and so I entrusted all those things to Osdraken, which I then, once I had strained to, with one arm from my PAK, place the memory chip into the blade, broke into two._

_ As soon as the sword broke, my mind became hazy, and I felt myself collapse, becoming undone until I stood again not as the tall, proud Elite Commander, but just as a regular Irken, fated to the same life as all the others. The broken Osdraken then formed two separate weapons, entrusted to no one._

_ The world was red around me, just as always, but now I recognized nothing as I lay there on the cold floor of the Vortian prison. Only silence filled my thoughts, for I could recall not a thing, not even my own name._

_ It was all over, then. My mind was a blank slate._

_ My height having changed, I was no longer restrained. An alarm sounded, and guards flooded the room. Foolishly, they turned off the bars of my cell. Panicked and newly formed, I ran. I escaped the shouts of the guards, hid in a garbage tank, and listened to my PAK repairing itself and filling my head with basic Irken knowledge as I was moved off of the Spike with the rest of the rubbish._

The name Zim was hated ever since.

Stories were created and my own memories were strained, but I had managed to do one thing: overrule the Control Brains. The death sentence had been placed on the Elite Commander. Not on my given name.

'Zim' was free.

The memory left my mind, and I struggled against the Commander's grip. "STOP!" I shouted.

"At the time," the Commander explained for me, ignoring my plea, "I thought my plan was perfect. I was new, I was nothing. This was foolish of me. The only mistake I have ever made."

"And cutting your heart out wasn't?" I chided him.

"I did not cut my heart out to become something as vile as _YOU!"_ The Commander tossed me down. "Love leads only to destruction! I should never have put stock even _once _into my detestable ability! It is disgusting, it is weak, _you are weak,_ and I no longer need you!"

"You're afraid of—" I began.

"I—fear—_NOTHING."_

He feared love. He feared humanity. He feared weakness.

But I still lived in fear of the rest. Of my past.

I had only been shown the weakest point in the Commander's life. He knew that he could fight me by playing on emotion, meaning that he had some grasp of human thought himself.

While I wanted to reason with words, however, the Commander spoke only with his blade. He swung _Osdraken_ out before I was fully back on my feet. I yelped and rolled out of the way, angry that I had been reduced to nothing but defensive moves. I darted at the Commander, ducked under his next swing, and shoved him back, jabbing my shoulder into the scar across his chest to heave him back several steps.

He did not fall, but he reeled and slammed his fist into my neck, beating me down yet again. I could not attack him without also harming myself, here in the Mirror, so I needed to use my physical attacks wisely and sparingly. I had only the defense of using reason against him.

I could only hope to defeat him by making him see my side, just the way he had begun to force his upon me.

"Listen," I said, backing away before he could strike again. "I understand how awful that must have been." More than that. I felt it. The Mirror had gotten to me a little. At least I could at last recall the full reasons behind my hatred for Lard Nar, but now that I had lived as a human, now that I could understand the spectrum of such things as perseverance and pity, I knew that there could have been so many different ways the Commander's situation could have been avoided.

He was not open to trust. Lard Nar had been right: he had no army. The Commander put what little faith he had into no one but Miyuki and himself, for only they had power.

He had only empty, personal goals. But even then, he was nothing more than a product of the Control Brains. He wanted what they wanted: full conquest. He was still buying into their work, but in his own way, pushing out any competition.

"It's _disgusting!"_ the Commander roared."An ill-befitting end to someone like me, wouldn't you say? And now I want out. I'm going to take your body for my own and reclaim my power, this time without my ridiculous infatuation for Miyuki."

"I wouldn't plan on it," I girded, getting my footing, firmly clenching my _sairedon._ "I don't care what you show me. Nothing is going to change my mind, Commander! Nobody can stop me from reaching my goal!"

With that, I lunged, striking out with the weapon in my right hand. When Commander countered, I grazed his right arm with the _sairedon_ in my left hand. The cut appeared on my lower arm as well, but I did not let that stand in my way. I struck out again, but he blocked me, then struck my chest as if to rip my own heart out with his fist. He cut into my neck with the dagger-like charm on his wrist, and when I managed to look back at him, the cut appeared on his neck as well.

"The worst part," he growled, "was what Tak did to me to get revenge." He struck me again, then rushed to my back and hit between my shoulderblades with the blunt part of his sword. I fell to the ground but spun around quickly, kicking him in the stomach with both feet, then flipping myself back up to standing, drawing my weapons again.

"Long, long ago, I saw my reflection in this Mirror," the Commander continued, still snarling, as we became locked in a fight between our blades. "Long, long ago, I gave into my useless ability. I was foolish, then, but you..!" He struck fast, but I crossed my _sairedon,_ trapping his sword and shoving him to the side. He recovered quickly and attacked again. "Tak found a way to turn you into a human on Earth... a creature controlled by emotion! I had no choice but to just watch as you gave in to every single one of them, including the one that I still hate. Your stupid, horrible notion of love!"

Angrily, I lunged at him, cutting his right shoulder and feeling the same cut open up on me within seconds. As he was recoiling, I dashed to his side and, knowing how much it would hurt, struck him hard, on the tender part of his upper right arm. He cried out, and I stumbled back, gripping my own wound. Neither of us were fit to fight for a moment, so the Commander continued.

"You relearned love as a human," he said, catching his breath a little, and since I could feel his pain, I knew why it was taking him a moment to recover, "but I, in my shadowed state, was able to block it. You'll never know it in full as long as I'm around."

"What?" I spat. "Why?"

"There is nothing to be gained. I do not feel love anymore, and therefore, _neither should you."_

My fear was rising, and I knew it.

No matter what kind of plan I made, he was one step ahead of me.

One step ahead of me.

He knew me. But there was still so much I did not understand about him. The parts of his past that he had omitted—and I knew that there was still so much—were the only memories that might help me. He kept them blocked.

And he had the upper hand.

One step ahead of me.

"How are you always one step ahead of me…?" I found myself whispering.

The Commander grinned, and I watched it spread. His canines were sharp, his teeth all blanched bone white and terrifying.

Then, in a second, he disappeared, and there was nothing but darkness. I gasped, and backed up. I feared for a moment that I had lapsed into another flash, but I could still see my hands in front of me. I turned to my right, to my left, and behind me, but the Commander, my reflection, was nowhere to be seen.

Then I felt his hands grab the sides of my head, and I cried out involuntarily.

"At last you understand!" he shouted, his voice pounding into my ears until I thought that they would bleed.

"Let go of me!" I yelped.

"I cannot. You cannot."

"Let—"

"Don't you get it?"

"Me—"

_"I AM INSIDE YOUR HEAD."_

_ "GO!"_

I jabbed back with my elbows, but the Commander was gone again, only to reappear in front of me, to grab me by the neck. He sneered again, and traced with one index finger the Elite symbol onto my forehead. It stung, despite my knowing that the symbol could not possibly have appeared.

How the hell had he risen up so fast, again? After showing me those memories of his last days as Commander, I seemed to have lost all modes of my defense. I struggled to search for the things that might weaken him.

I had to win.

I had to fight.

I had to not give into any trick he tried to play.

"We're on the move," he said, distracting my attention yet again.

I kneed him in the ribs and rushed away from him, grabbing at my weapons in an attempt to formulate a new attack plan. Before I could, however, the Mirror's frame appeared in front of me. I saw my own reflection for only a second before the glass shifted to become a window.

Through it, I saw not Station Nine, but—

"Devastis…?" I gasped.

"So this is where he ended up," the Commander mused. I felt him walk up behind me. Faintly, I heard the sound of rattling chains.

I'd heard them echo through Station Nine as well, I recalled.

They existed only in memory, but I could hear them. They were the chains that had bound the Commander after he had been convicted of that crime, the chains that had held him to the wall of the Military Prison on the Spike of Judgment.

After all, the Commander was still condemned.

"He?" I repeated.

"The one that holds the remainder of my memories."

"GIR…" I shook my head, and the image through the window of the Mirror moved. It showed a view of the central city from a balcony atop one of the training towers.

An escape route.

One of us was getting out of the Mirror, and we'd get out on Planet Devastis. If GIR was there, so, too, I realized, were the others. I felt myself smile a bit, knowing that this meant that Gaz had succeeded. She and her brother must have taken out the Brains on the _Massive._ We were reaching our goals.

I could not lose my way here.

"It's been a long time since I've seen this planet," said the Commander. "Time to reclaim it."

"You're not getting out," I stated firmly.

"We shall see. But oh, just look at this," he said, as he made me look out over the well-oiled machine that was Planet Devastis. "Things have certainly been moving along, haven't they?"

"On Devastis?" I wondered. Suddenly, terror clinched my chest, and I whirled to face him. "What would you do, if you got out?"

"Exactly what I built my life to do, human," the Commander told me flatly, killing hope with every word. "Destroy, and conquer."

"You're a machine," I spat at him.

"I am a soldier."

"You're _nothing!"_ I shouted.

And with that, I took the opening he had granted me. There, in front of the Mirror's window to the outside world, I spun out the _sairedon_ that I held in my right hand, and thrust it up through the Commander's chest. His eyes widened in shock, and I instantly felt the pain from my own attack. This would be worth every second of pain, though, I told myself. This was where I could do justice, this was where I could finally put an end to that awful portion of my life once and for all.

So I thought.

The Commander grinned. "Go on, human," he sneered, eyes going bloodshot. "Drive it in deeper. Do your worst."

"Why can't I kill you?" I found myself asking under my breath.

"Simple. Very simple."

The Commander took hold of my wrist and thrust my hand further forward, so that I was driving my blade farther in. Breathing became difficult, and I began to feel dizzy. My pulse slowed.

Because I had aimed for the heart he did not have.

"There we are," he said on a low tone, talking down to me as if I were a child. I choked for breath and could not bring myself to look at him. My hand was soaked with blood, and my own heart was beating slower and slower. He pulled my wrist away from his chest, and as soon as the blade was dislodged from his skin, I dropped it and, losing energy fast, tripped forward. "Now, let me return the favor."

The Commander moved his hand from my wrist in order to grab my right arm, and as I let out a cry for the sharp surge that screamed through me, he drew his own sword and thrust it straight through my chest.

My eyes snapped open and my voice broke. My lungs were ripped cleanly in half, and the tip of his Elite Blade slit itself through the crossed scars on my back, freeing up the snakes upon snakes of wires that made up the insides of an Irken PAK. Cold air hit my skin and the fabric of my ruined clothing clung by sweat and blood to my own tissue, making the burning sensation all the worse. My ears felt clogged as the PAK wires hummed and hissed with their own artificial life, feeding off of the heartbeats I had left.

Everything ached. I felt nauseous, dizzy, exhausted.

I hated feeling failure.

I always had.

"You gave it a valiant effort," the Commander leaned in to rasp into my ear. Tears stung my eyes, but without a soul I still could not cry. He'd broken me. I could not breathe, or speak, or move. Only stare, eyes pried open, as everything I had attempted to build was shattered in a single instant. With all the energy I still had, I shook my head. No. This could not be happening. This could not be the way my journey would end. "Next time, aim for something vital."

_The heart is vital,_ I thought, and willed him to hear.

"And it was your folly to assume that I had one."

_You're a monster._

"I am Fear," he corrected self-servingly. He took his time pulling _Osdraken _out; I felt it ripping again through tissue and bone. I choked on my own blood. It was a miracle that I was still standing; then again, he was holding me up. "Haven't you learned by now, human, that fear is the only tool one needs in order to get ahead?"

Somehow, I managed to lift my head. When I did, I glared at the Commander with every ounce of hatred I knew I could feel, and spat blood between his eyes. He let out a frustrated growl and hurled me aside. Even though I could barely feel myself moving, I did feel the impact when I hit the Mirror's vague definition of the ground. _Breathe,_ I commanded myself. _Please, please breathe… get up… take in a breath and get up…_

"Fear is progress," the Commander barked at me as he took a few steps over to where I lay. "Fear is the key to conquest. And you are still afraid of me."

He bent down, and grabbed me up roughly by the front of my bloodied shirt. "Even within this desolate illusion, you are giving in," he snarled. "What does that tell you? That is weakness! That is true, disgusting, perfect fear! Look at you! You are a disgrace to everything I hoped to attain. You are a disgrace to the purity of the Empire I once had the power to build. You fell in love and that is _weak._ That is _trivial._ Love and humanity and mortality are selfish, disgusting points of weakness, and I will destroy every shred of all these false, trite notions you wanted to believe in."

_Why?_

"Because it is a violent universe, and only by getting ahead can one survive! Your time is over, human. Enjoy the rest of the show."

Then, I slipped into darkness. My mind still buzzed with thought but I could physically feel nothing, nor could I see a thing. I panicked, I panicked... and then, I existed. My blind subconscious felt reconnected to my body, which only felt like mine for a moment longer, and then, once again, 'I' became 'we,' and now 'we' were becoming what 'we' had been, decades before.

Feeling flooded back into my hands... I cracked my knuckles and curled my fingers in to clench my fists. Against my will, my hands once closed and flexed, and they felt larger, stronger. I could smother life with those hands. That strength built and grew, and that sensation, that lust to kill, pulsed through me. It spread up my arms, broadened my shoulders, tightened every muscle, ceased the beating of my useless, loveless heart.

I was taller now; stronger, older, faster. Invincible.

There was a warm vibration in my throat. I was laughing. The Commander was laughing, amused and encouraged at my defeat. We stood there, connected for only a few moments more. He wanted me to know what it felt like to be him. He wanted me to like it. And, for a few seconds, I did. I shook myself of that malicious, burning feeling soon enough, but still I could see nothing.

Until he opened his eyes.

Lying out before us was not the Mirror, not the abandoned, decrepit Station Nine, but Devastis.

"Fear is progress," he said, his voice scratching against my throat. "Progress demands conquest. And conquest means finally taking what belongs to me."

_Why did you take me here?_ I still had the mind to demand, despite his physical control. _What are you going to do?_

"I am going to put an end to you," was his answer, his red-tinted vision surveying the military planet. "Kill you slowly. Take what's mine and destroy what was yours. Because when I kill that little girl with my bare hands, you will give up. You will die. And the Mirror will never need to break."

_…What…?_ What was he talking about? Break? He knew how and why the Mirror, the third Talisman, needed to break…?

"And I will have everything."

Everything material, maybe.

But with what little conscious thought I still had, I needed to cling to the one notion that still meant 'everything' to me:

_If I can break the Mirror—_

If only I had not been reduced to memory and an awful, empty promise.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Uh-oh. D:

I have been waiting so long to get to posting this part. Now begins one of my favorite parts of Part Four; I hope you guys like it~ ^^ Let's check back in on how things are going on Devastis now that the Commander's out, shall we…? :3 (I really like writing this guy, not gonna lie.)

Oh, yes, and just a note: in addition to still referencing the un-aired episode _The Trial,_ this chapter also does make a tiny reference to something mentioned in _The Frycook What Came From All That Space._ Figured Zim'd be the reason for the wave of prisoners escaping in garbage tanks… XD (I also referenced _TWFF_ a little, haha… ^^)

Thank you so, so much for reading! See you next **Friday, August 3****rd****!** :3

~Jizena

– – –


	7. Devastis 2: Machine, Part A

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

Devastis, from what I saw of it, was the single most daunting place I had ever been. It gave me a worse feeling than even the Control Brain room on the _Massive_ had—granted, the Brains were still active here, and I was feeling pressure around me simply from that, but I could get not get over the fact that the parts that Skutch was navigating me through only made up a small part. Devastis wasn't just a city, wasn't just a ship; it was a planet. An entire planet devoted to military training, weapons techniques, the culture of the Invaders.

Irken soldiers marched through these several walls day after day to appease the Brains and become worthy to acquisition more and more worlds into the Irken Empire. There was no end. This place was morbid, making killers of an entire race that never knew what it would be like to choose life for themselves.

As I watched Skutch, his blue, increasingly human eyes darting here and there as he found the best paths for us to take, I saw a repressed coldness in him. He had been so helpful lately, I'd almost been able to forget that I'd absolutely despised him when first he landed on Earth, that he had been a part of Tak's brainwashed Elite, serving her with very little will of his own.

It was nice, comforting even, to have seen him break that, and to watch him change. It gave me hope for Zim to take that even a step further. Irkens could change, and I believed that they could have souls themselves. They just had to want it. They just had to allow themselves to be ready, to accept and embrace life—all life, not only their own.

When I asked Skutch what ground we were covering, he told me that we were nearing a section of the planet that Tak had used, during her brief stint as Tallest, to train her hand-picked soldiers. I didn't even have to ask to know that one of my mother's machines would be waiting for us, wherever we ended up.

I was absolutely right.

Skutch led me down a few layers into the underground of the planet, outfitted much like the interior of the _Massive,_ with brightly—if not harshly—lit walls of varying greys, mocking shades of red, purple, and green. The room was domed, as was much Irken architecture, I was starting to notice, and there were doors leading out to hallways on four sides, like a compass. We entered from what looked like the southernmost tip, and straight ahead of us, tall like a tower and just as imposing, was a very familiar generator.

Tak had used it, or something like it, during the Incident. I did not know if the generator had a name, or how long ago it had been invented. All I knew was that Tallest Miyuki had created the prototype, and that it was the machine that had first been responsible for altering Zim's DNA and turning him human.

"Here we go," Skutch said under his breath. "Bet you anything we're gonna see one of those bitches show up sooner or later."

Adhering to the old supposition that someone in the wrong will always return to the scene of the crime, I believed him. Strongly. Tak was obsessed with my mother's machines: the generator capable of transformations, and the Time Warp device.

Looking at those, I found myself suddenly and awkwardly relieved that all Dad had ever really wasted his time on was dumb shit like super toast.

Then again, if Dad had had his own free will in the corporations that he'd ended up selling out for, I wondered if he wouldn't have created something just as fearsome and impressive. Amazing, I thought to myself, how it took something like standing in the presence of Mom's invention again to start desperately hoping that, after all of this, my parents would be able to get back together and work things out. And work on something new, like they'd probably been wanting to for a very, very long time.

"This is where Tak brought all you guys?" I guessed. Neither Skutch nor I had taken another step into the room. The air felt heavier the longer I had to breathe it in. "When you were in her Elite, I mean."

"Sure is," Skutch snorted, folding his arms. "Marched us through the electric field of that thing, one after the other. Glowed, in we went, and out we came, a little stronger."

I glanced at his gloved hands, and saw him dig his fingers into the skin of his arms a little. Rage built, but he was able to contain it as he glared at the generator.

It truly was an impressive thing. The tower of it looked like a complex computer of blacks and greys, and two antennae jutted out horizontally from the top, acting almost like Tesla coils in that they were the source of the electric chamber that read and reconfigured DNA. The chamber itself, I knew, could change in size, possibly even kill with the right intent from the user, but as the machine had been set up now, the chamber, glowing blue, was about six or six and a half feet high, creating a perfectly rectangular box of sorts. Lights flashed on the generator itself. It was still working commands.

"So, what should we do right now?" I wondered, as we two finally began to step into the room.

"Honestly, we'd be good to wait it out," Skutch admitted. "Tak and MiMi can't be far, and I betcha Zim's gonna join back up sometime soon."

"I hope so," I sighed. "I'm getting worried, Skutch."

"Nah, don't," he said, nudging my arm. "Zim's too stubborn to lose."

I let myself smile. "I hope you're right."

Footsteps sounded from the hallway leading off of the northern tip of the room, and I choked on my breath as Skutch yanked me aside. There was really no good place to hide in the room, so we ducked into the eastern doorway as the footsteps drew closer.

"Tak?" I wondered in a whisper.

"Either her or MiMi. I'd take either one right now, honestly. What's the call?"

"Huh?"

"You're the boss's sister. So it's, y'know, your call on if we should destroy 'em."

Shit. I kept forgetting about that… mostly because I wanted to. Oh, the subject had come up before, but now the reality of it was closer than ever:

_Would we kill Tak?_

If we didn't, on one hand, we could find ourselves in deep shit with her again later. If we did… how would we? First come, first serve? Should we make her an example?

Would killing her just further Irken retaliation and bloodshed?

No time to think about that now, though: the footsteps were drawing closer still. They were light, agile, precise. MiMi.

She appeared in the room in her human hologram, nose to the air as if she were seeking something out. Her narrow, catlike red eyes shifted in all directions around her, and her pace slowed the further into the room she walked. Momentarily content, MiMi stepped over to the generator and stroked its side before she walked around to the back to input a command. I thought to ask Skutch what she could be doing, but knew that MiMi would hear even the slightest whisper.

I hid my breath.

And then, an explosion.

Not from the generator, as I feared, but from the western hallway. Skutch placed himself more in front of me, pushing me back further against the wall, but I craned my neck and stood on tiptoe to see what the source of the noise had been.

Well, if time had taught me anything, it was that where there were explosions, there was GIR. Smoke billowed in for a moment from the hallway as the tiny robot who once had been so annoyingly persistent yet loyal to Zim burst onto the scene, LED eyes red and bright, expression blank. He, too, seemed to be searching for something.

MiMi noticed, narrowed her eyes, and swirled out of human guise and into, instead, the little black cat hologram I felt I'd seen so very little of lately. In a black flash, she tackled GIR and pinned him to the far wall, flashing yet again out of hologram as she held him captive.

"State your loyalty," MiMi demanded.

GIR responded by shooting a laser blast out of his eyes. MiMi dodged, rolled aside, then was on her feet again and pinning GIR back up against the wall. "State your loyalty," she demanded more firmly. "Will you join us?"

"Tak is a traitor," GIR said, with no inflection to his tone.

"You have suffered too many malfunctions."

"Tak is a traitor and you are a thief."

MiMi threw GIR across the room, and spun into her human hologram before she strode up to where he had fallen. "Better a thief than old technology," she said.

A thief? What had she stolen? Was GIR referring directly to Miyuki's machines…?

MiMi's boot crunched down onto GIR's tiny chassis, and it seemed like the little robot would more or less meet his end… when the unthinkable happened. Then again, my entire life had been one 'unthinkable' event after the other for years, now, this really should have been no surprise. I just had never expected it from GIR.

"It appears that you choose to forfeit," said MiMi disapprovingly, her eyes stern as they flashed. "This was not the result I wanted from you." She then raised her right arm and activated the metal claws that could still, even in her human hologram, detach and retract.

GIR glared back.

His eyes flared red, and his voice became stern and militaristic when he proclaimed, "That's my arm."

"Is it?" asked MiMi. "You have not missed it all these years. I'm from the junk heap, just like you."

"I dare you to say that again."

"I said," MiMi repeated, lifting GIR up with the claws extending from her right hand, "you are nothing but junk. Your central processor was tampered with, and runs too slow. You are obsolete. You refuse to use a hologram. You refuse to alter."

"Some programs were never re-installed," GIR snapped.

"I detect jealousy," MiMi taunted in her flat tone. "I was modified. I am superior."

"You are a thief."

"I am advancement. Your master abandoned you. You have lost."

"Fine," GIR caved. "I'll play."

"Why is he talking like that?" I asked Skutch, nervously whispering the words into his ear while hoping that neither robot would notice or hear me.

Skutch grit his teeth and drew his weapon; he shifted it immediately into a _manriki,_ and tightened his grip on the chain, while having enough control of his left elbow to push me back slightly behind him. "We're not gonna want to stick around here," he advised, "if MiMi's gonna do what I think GIR's tryin' for."

"Which _is...?"_

"He's gonna fuck her up."

"How?"

"Okay: short version of the story," said Skutch. "When Zim was the Commander, he had a wicked complex SIR unit, like before they were even called that. He named it, and it had a whole buncha different abilities the next gen didn't. He got junked, but if he's gonna get a hologram..."

"GIR's getting a human hologram?!" I hissed. _"GIR?"_

"Wouldn't call him that very long," Skutch advised. "If, uh—"

"What?"

Skutch's eyes were glued forward, and he stared as MiMi wound up and threw GIR back toward the generator. "Find a suitable one," Tak's robot instructed sternly and loudly (she never did _shout,_ I'd say), "and then we'll continue."

The generator smoked and sparked; thinking quickly, Skutch pushed me back, and shifted his weapon instead into a Vortian gun, which got me worried. The generator let out a long, screaming hum, like a train trying to break before it can de-rail, and then belched out a cloud of grey smoke. I held my breath and counted to five. By the time I reached the end of my count, I discovered that I was clinging onto the back of Skutch's shirt for dear life.

A red laser blast dispelled the smoke, and sent a pressure wave flying in all directions. When I dared to look again, the smoke was coiling around the silver-booted feet of someone who looked, for all intents and purposes, like a human somewhere between fifteen and twenty-five. It was impossible to tell his age. Not that guessing was really my priority. His height, I estimated, was somewhere around mine, maybe adding another inch or two; his hair a short, jagged brunette mess.

"That's not—" I started.

"I kinda think it is," Skutch finished.

"We're—"

"Fucked if we move."

"Great."

"Yep."

MiMi's face showed the suggestion of a satisfied smile, which was already pretty terrifying, since her expression never seemed to change. She extended her arms out and took a few steps forward, inviting the apparent newcomer to battle. SIR politics were beyond my comprehension. SIR units were more or less sub-Irkens, but if MiMi was part Control Brain and even GIR had secrets—this wasn't a fluke of artificial intelligence. This was its own minor war.

"Are you going to take this seriously now?" MiMi asked.

"Never," warned the young man in the smoke, "tell me I'm obsolete."

There were similarities between him and MiMi, but even more differences. A similarity: they both appeared to be in uniform. The difference: execution thereof. While MiMi's skintight, _kimono_-like battle dress resembled Tak's, her opponent looked both more casual and more professional, wearing black pants that were tucked in at the shins to his metallic silver boots, and a green vest with a high, angular collar, detailed around the edges where stitching would be expected with thick black outlines. The SIR symbol—a smaller version of the Irken symbol, only a circle above a downward pointing triangle—was emblazoned on the right side.

His skin was of a lightish peach tone, but unlike MiMi's, it was not blemishless, as could have been expected of a highly-advanced cyborg. He looked incomplete, or at least just pieced together. Two metal rings encircled the joints that connected his right arm to his shoulder, and another encircled his lower left arm at the elbow. Large metal plates, like skin grafts, were affixed to his upper and lower arms in groupings of two, on the insides, for a total of four on each arm, and yet another connected his collarbones. Thinner versions of those plates appeared above and below his left eye, and extended backward over his ear, the tip of which was also fashioned of metal. Affixed to the cartilege of his right ear was yet another metal piece, this one blinking red like a homing device.

On both of his hands, his fingers were encircled, from the knuckle to center joint, even on the thumbs, with metal rings, and those rings were in turn connected to visible wires that strung back onto glowing blue orbs protruding ever so slightly from the backs of his hands. That was similar to MiMi's design as well, especially her right hand, though it was clear that that limb of hers was far superior.

He narrowed his red eyes on his opponent and demanded, "Give me back my arm, MiMi." His lips then curled over his straight white teeth into a dog-like snarl.

Catlike, but in no way the prey, MiMi slinked back, and pointed her right hand forward.

"Come and take it," she prompted, "Gerohnod."

As soon as MiMi shot her claws forward and the fight had begun, Skutch said, "Okay, we're leaving now," and yanked me away from the room, only to shove me into a utility closet a few paces down the hall, follow me in, and shoot the laser gun at the ceiling, which somehow activated a dim blue light.

"What the hell was that?!" I screamed. Skutch yelped, dropped the gun, and slapped both gloved hands over my mouth. "Why did she call—" I started out, but it was muffled. I grabbed Skutch's forearms to get him to lower his hands and asked in a hushed but frantic whisper, "Who's _Gerohnod?"_

"The Government-Issue Recon service droid Miyuki's regime gave my Commander way back when," Skutch explained, in a bit of a rush.

"Government-Issue Recon?" I repeated, squinching my nose up. "That's what the _GIR_ acronym means?"

"Yeah, but the Commander hated it," said Skutch with a guilt-laden shrug, "so he took the acronym and ran with it for a longer name. _Gero_ is ancient Irken for _death,_ so you can probably fill in the rest. Gerohnod was head of recon in the Elite. That's why Zim never had a co-Commander, or seated subordinates. He just had Gerohnod, who was basically like if _Osdraken_ had a face and could move."

"Well, shit."

"Right?! Like I said!"

"So, GIR's... actually an enemy?" I wondered. "Honestly, what the hell?"

"Dude, I have _no idea,"_ said Skutch, "which is why it's better if we just plain leave."

I grabbed him by the collar and growled, "Do _not_ call me 'dude.'"

"No prob, sweetheart."

I punched him in the gut. "Or that."

Skutch just smirked. "Make up your mind, _chica,_ I could do this all day."

I just growled again, folded my arms, and glared at the closet door. "I guess you spent your time on Earth wisely," I grumbled.

"Yo, I had a choice, the dictionary or the mall," Skutch put up for his defense, "and the dictionary didn't have flashy real-time visuals."

_"When the hell did you have time to go to the fucking mall?"_

"Plus your dad gave me this cool satellite thingy that lets me tap into you guys' internet, so—"

"OKAY. Can you stop being adolescent for two seconds and be a soldier and get me out of this fucking closet?!" I shouted. "A minute ago you were telling me we were fucked, _so make us not fucked."_

"Sure thing," Skutch grinned, "but we're really gonna have to run."

"I'm fine with that."

"On three, I'm opening this door, you turn, uh..." Skutch tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he tapped first his right hand at the door and then his left, twice, "left, turn left, that's the one away from where we were, left, okay, so turn left and then just _go."_

"Got it."

I couldn't be too mad at Skutch. Hell, I really, really couldn't. And not just because his brain had been completely fried after what Tak had pulled on him with that awful PAK remodelling. He was trying, and sometimes he was even trying too hard, but he wasn't about to let up on protecting me in Zim's stead, which was incredibly kind. Of course, my brain just had to go there with the, _I wouldn't mind him as a brother-in-law_ thought that kind of jerked both my head and gut with awkward and barely-discernable emotions, but whatever. I swallowed the thought back and prepared myself to run.

"One," Skutch counted, his hand positioned to open the door, "two... three."

He pushed the door open, but just before I could dart out, he grabbed me back in with his lightning-fast reflexes, and just in time, too, since if I'd gone out I would have hit MiMi in a head-on collision. I screamed as Tak's robot, still in hologram, soared through the air past me, and before she could even hit the ground, she was blasted with a sharp red laser.

"We having fun yet?!" the one MiMi and Skutch had confirmed to be called Gerohnod called out from down the hall to our right. I was kind of glad he'd been given another name, since that raging mad cyborg just _did not_ register as GIR to me. GIR ate a bull's weight in tacos and thought that a 'lap dance' meant you danced a lap around a track field. _Gerohnod_ just grated my brain to even think about, I had no idea how my tongue would rebel if I tried to say it. Just like _Osdraken._ He sounded like a weapon.

He was.

Plain and simple. He wasn't a robot; he was a mech. He wasn't a warrior; he was his own weapon.

And what scared me even more was that I knew he'd probably answer straight to the Elite Commander. And if his master hated Tak so damn much, I could only imagine what Gerohnod wanted to do to MiMi.

It hit me, then, more or less what all of this was. _History repeats itself_ is a phrase we beleaguer on Earth. The Irken equivalent must have been _history gets its motherfucking revenge._

Because that's all I was surrounded by. Revenge. Grudges that had never died. Memories that had been hidden and broken and twisted beyond recognition only to be planted as new seeds in restructured bodies, destroying what good had come of the earlier disassembling in order to create this arcane chaos that threatened to shred Irken society as it had become.

This was what I was supposed to fix. This was what Dib and I were expected to overcome, subdue, whatever, when we finally fulfilled our mother's mission of destroying the Control Brains.

As Originals, both Tak and Zim had felt defiance for the Brains since their birth, or creation, or whatever it was that had started their lives. Red was Original, too, sure, but he had never been in a position to defy; he'd been an Elite and been content with that, and then he'd become Tallest and life got even better. Until he became charged with the choice about Ira... and he'd let him live.

Tak's defiance had begun when she created MiMi. MiMi was built of every scrap of Tak's former life—of pieces of Tavis, mined to ultra-rarity under the Irken planet's surface; of scraps belonging to Gerohnod's original chassis, which explained his humanoid counterpart's skin grafts; of schrapnel from the Control Brain that had banished her from Devastis and destroyed her chances of becoming an Invader a second time. But that, I believed, was where Tak's war against the Control Brains ended. Everything else was about Zim.

And Zim had been against them from day one. I believed that the Commander's Elite was so powerful that the Control Brains did not often try to lord over him. But when he became charged with Miyuki's murder, suddenly he was able to be their prey. Finally he could be dealt with under their rules, but so as not to stoop, he had shattered his memories completely and embedded the chips in the destroyed _Osdraken_ and the dismanteled Gerohnod; the rest remained deep, so deep into the recesses of his PAK that not even the Control Brains could read them and know that they were there.

Red, I believed, could only tap into how much he despised the Control Brains recently. It probably began when they ordered his Commander dead, but materialized further when he knew for the very first time that he had made a mistake. That he had taken a human he'd not meant to abduct far from his home and his own life, and that by Brain law the human should die. And so Red had spared Ira's life, even if he had shattered the doctor's dignity and a bit of his sanity in the process. Red had tried to relapse, but it hadn't worked. He felt bad for what he'd done to Ira, and worse for forcing it on him again.

So it was, I believed, that Red was the only one who had started to make the turnaround so far. Zim and Tak still had such deep hatred inside them, for each other, for themselves, and for the strict regulations set down by the Brains for so many years, that they could not reform. Check that: not Zim, but the Commander. The title, not the name. The murderer, not the victim.

Zim had become his own person during the years the Commander's voice had been bound in silence. And I kind of thought that his past self resented that.

God, I wanted to see him again.

But I had to get past yet another obstacle, yet another manifestation of the Elite Commander's hatred and power, before I could even hope to find Zim again. Gerohnod seemed like more than just an obstacle, though. Sure, I wasn't his current target, but once he'd finished with MiMi, I was pretty sure he'd seek out something else. He wasn't about to lapse back into GIR after tasting that Elite power again.

Nope.

This guy wasn't the absent-minded lap dog anymore. He was Cerberus at the gates of Hell.

And we were about to feel the flames.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Notes:**

Part A, because I like prolonging things. XD Especially with villains~ I enjoy the Commander, Gerohnod/GIR, Tak and MiMi a little too much, so I hope you're prepared for a kind of villain/anti-hero arc… :3 (Heh, no Commander this week, but he's coming…)

A note about Gerohnod though: I… love writing Gerohnod. So I guess the more chapters I allow him the better. XD I have a very deep love for villains, so I had to prolong this arc… and oh, yes, the Commander's on his way back into the story soon too. But the major note is GIR's name… I'd speculated the _Government_ tie for a long time, but the name _Gerohnod_ itself is my ridiculous language/naming obsession at work. Yes, I made _'gero' _the ancient Irken word for _death,_ but his name is actually from old Germanic roots: _ger_ is common in Germanic names, translating to _spear,_ and _hnod_ is_ crush._ It's a modification of the name _Gernot._ ^^

It is a dangerous thing to be a language nerd, but a fun, very, very fun thing, oh yes.

Continuing with part B of Gaz's narration next week! Thank you so so much for reading! ^^ See you on **Friday, August 8****th****!** :3

~Jizena

– – –


	8. Devastis 3: Machine, Part B

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

Effortlessly, Gerohnod kicked MiMi down to the ground, pinning her the way she had, only minutes before, been trapping GIR in the chassis I was used to seeing.

Very slowly, Skutch began backing me away. The two robots had overtaken the center segment of the hallway Zim's brother and I had started to head down, but there were other paths we still could take, if only we had the chance to really make a break for it. Cautiously, cautiously, step by wary step, we inched back, back, back into the room we'd previously walked through. I could hear the hum of the generator—the machine of my mother's that had not only been able to create human likenesses for a handful of Irkens, but for that specialized Government-Issued robot, as well.

Gerohnod, so he was called, really was a cut above the rest. And he terrified me. I felt chills, and I knew that it was due to just how much he reminded me of the Elite Commander, and how much I wished that I never, ever had to deal with that dark side of Zim's past again.

"Almost there," Skutch whispered.

As we were still backing up, making sure not to disturb the fight for, let's face it, dominance between Zim's helper unit and Tak's, things took a turn. Or, rather, the inevitable happened.

"Obsolete piece of trash," MiMi hissed up at him.

Gerohnod kicked her across the face, then blasted down at her sternum with a laser from his left hand. The blast shocked MiMi out of her hologram, and Gerohnod leaned down to effortlessly rip off her right arm. MiMi's red eyes flickered.

"I'm not the one who's obsolete," Gerohnod snarled. He held out the tiny robotic arm in triumph, but did not take his stern eyes off of his opponent. "I've hated you for a long time, MiMi. Better luck next time. If she can find all the pieces."

"WAIT," MiMi tried.

Her only voiced plea went unheard, and I knew that it was the very last word MiMi would ever speak.

Gerohnod brought his thick metal boot down again and crushed the small robot's chassis. Like a child getting sick pleasure out of crushing a bug, he ground his toe into the floor, reducing some of MiMi's remains to dust, then picked her head up and dashed it against the wall. One of her eyes remained in his palm, and a short laser flare incinerated it.

…One down, I guess.

But this guy was his own army.

With one last glance, Gerohnod spat down on the broken pieces that had once made up Tak's robot, turned, and walked past me and Skutch, back into the room with the generator.

I started breathing again, utterly unaware that I'd even stopped.

"Dammit," Skutch muttered. "Come on."

Before we could turn to start our getaway down the hallway again, however, Gerohnod's form flickered, and in a second the human guise was gone, revealing again the little robot. He swiftly yanked off his right arm, tossed it aside, and slid MiMi's severed arm into his own socket. He glared at his restored arm, curled the sophisticated claws in and extended them again, then turned to glare at us as he flickered back into his cyborgean human-like form.

"Where do you two think you're going?" he said darkly, his face expressionless.

"Somewhere with a little less crazy, thanks," Skutch snapped.

"Oh, so much for let's leave all quietly!" I chastised him, elbowing him in the ribs.

Skutch took it, and grabbed me back. "He's gonna chase us no matter what."

"Chase?" Gerohnod repeated, taking a few steps toward us. "Wrong word." His right arm, I noticed, had a different appearance than before. Rather than rings of metal around each finger, he instead had acquired the extendible claws that earlier MiMi had had the ability to use. "You might run. Humans are very good at running." Two steps closer, two steps closer. "Go ahead. Run. I don't chase." His lips curled into a terrible sneer; two steps closer— "You'll just run into me again."

"Okay, yeah, let's go," Skutch suggested. "Now."

"Go. Run. Or, come dance with me," Gerohnod said, snapping his head back; his pupils dilated as he grinned across the room at me.

"Leave me alone," I commanded in return, taking hold of my daggers.

Gerohnod feigned disappointment. He bowed his head, then tested out his newly-clawed fingers and sneered, "Oh, no, no, you don't understand. When I tell you to dance, you dance."

In the blink of an eye, he shot the prehensile claws forward at me with the intention to grab my arm. I cut through the air with my non-dominant hand in an attempt to swerve his movement, but he had better control of the trajectory of the appendage than I'd anticipated. He grabbed hold, and I yelped, but managed to yank the claws off of me. He got off with a ripped portion of my uniform jacket, though, and when he retracted the claws, he held up the fabric sample. He took a sniff of it, then licked the corner of his lips and smirked. "Got your scent. Am I a convincing dog yet?"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I screamed. I shifted my left dagger into my right hand so that I held them both blades out, and gathered energy from the heavy air of the room into my left palm.

"Gaz, come on!" Skutch encouraged me.

"No! Now he's just pissing me off!"

"Look, he's pissin' me off, too, but we should _GO."_ On the last word, Skutch whipped out his weapon, flinging it around once as a _manriki;_ he stepped down on the chain just as Gerohnod shot his claws toward me again. The weighted, spiked ball knocked the claws away, and while Gerohnod was recovering the weapon, I shot my gathered energy at his chest.

He took the full blast, and before he could make another move, Skutch yanked me back, and we tore off down the hall. I glanced back only once at MiMi's remains; as Skutch and I ran further away from the room with the generator, my mind began coming up with about a hundred ways Tak might react to the destruction of her own loyal robot. No doubt she would blame one of us for MiMi's sudden end. But I had no idea what Tak's connection to the Commander's GIR unit had been.

Gerohnod seemed to act out in whatever way he pleased, rather like his master. All I knew was that I did not want the two to reunite. GIR had been giving Zim more than enough trouble back home at headquarters, and I found myself wishing that I had never been given a visual cue as to why. _Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay,_ I repeated for Zim's sake, over and over in my head.

_Run,_ Gerohnod had told us, but we were not safe. Confidence began to leave me, and I felt my vision gradually blur. I wanted more reinforcement. Splitting up had seemed like a good idea at first, sure, and it did save us time in our exploration of the planet, but now that Skutch and I had found one of the machines… and now that MiMi was gone… we could stand to meet up with at least one of the other branched small groups. I wanted to be with Dad, or Dib, or Ira. Or Zim.

When I began shaking, Skutch suggested we stop. We had almost made it to another door, so we took a few steps away into a shadowy corner in order to stay hidden. No footsteps followed us—Gerohnod had not, to his word, given chase. No sign of Tak. No sign of anyone.

"Yo," Skutch said, keeping his tone low as he positioned me away from the hallway so that any strikes against us would be aimed directly at him, "you okay? You always seemed like a wicked good fighter. What's goin' on?"

"I-I don't know, there's just so much just… _shit_ going on right now, Skutch," I admitted, "I don't know how to deal with GIR or however you say his name now, and just the fact that he's around—"

Skutch nodded. "I think I gotcha."

"I want Zim."

The words spilled out of me before I could stop them.

I felt empty, that was the problem. I was absorbing everything around me and taking on the brunt of every blast. Now that Red had come around and Ira was back to normal, my every conscious thought was not so much focused on the Control Brain missions—although, sure, the thoughts were there, swimming around, occupying some of the crevices of my mind—but on Zim.

On how I wanted him to be all right, how I wasn't going to be able to keep myself going at top speed until I saw him again. He had all of my support, but I just wanted him _there._ Now. And always.

"You do, huh?"

"Yes," I said, my voice shaking as a confession tugged at my tongue. "Because I'm sick of talking myself around it. I lo—"

A crash sounded from inside, and I covered my own mouth to silence my skittish scream. The crash was followed by an irate howl from a familiar female voice, and then the words, "Come _on,_ already!"

I steeled myself, and swallowed back my nerves. I couldn't break down right now. Because now, if Skutch and I played our cards right, we'd have Tak cornered. Skutch gave me a look to ask silently if I was all right again, and I nodded. I flicked on my watch and tried to make a call to my brother.

When Dib did not respond, I assumed that he must have either touched upon something important himself (the Brains, hopefully; he'd paired with Red, after all), or was locked in a fight. Not wanting to distract him with another call, I tried my father. Skutch stepped back to ease the door to the room Tak was in open, and I used that moment to whisper that we had found both Tak and Gerohnod.

Tenn got in on the call pretty fast after that, and alerted me that she'd locked onto our coordinates, and would bring the group around our way. So that settled my mind even further, since I knew Tenn could move fast, and hers was the largest branch of our group. She was great at commanding troops, leading missions, so I knew our backup would arrive soon enough.

Except:

"Uh-oh," was the next thing I heard from Skutch.

"Ugh, what now?" I wondered.

"Might wanna see this."

I grit my teeth, shook my head to temporarily get rid of my worries, and walked up to stand beside Skutch at the opening of the rectangular, metallic red doorway.

I saw all I needed to: Tak, in human hologram, had a mirror in there, and it was suspended in midair. It was a gorgeous mirror, framed in what looked like an ornate Rococco style. My mother's Mirror, too; not just any old thing. I gasped slightly and drew away to speak again to Skutch.

Eyes widening on their own, I whisper-demanded, "What's she doing with that?"

"I dunno. Waiting," Skutch replied, looking displeased, "I'd guess."

"For what?"

"Same thing we are: the result of Zim's fight." My heart skipped when he said that, and I must have seemed ready to faint, since next thing I knew Skutch was gripping my upper arms to keep me balanced. I could not handle this. It felt as if my mind and heart had just been reduced to amorphous pools of emotions, several of which I had little grip on the complexities of before. I was fishing for things I had not understood until only recently. Just as Zim was. I understood what hurt: we were searching for the same things, but being physically apart made it all the more difficult for me.

Maybe I am like my family of scientists after all. I like solid facts. I like direct results. I just wanted to understand.

"In case you hadn't figured it out," Skutch also noted, glowering at our nemesis inside that glowing blue-grey room, "Tak had kind of a... thing... for our Commander, way back when. She fucking idolized him, and when he left, she got pissed and took everything out on him... till she figured he could potentially come back. So she exploited Zim's emotional weaknesses."

"She's got some fucking nerve," I muttered, my hands clenching into fists.

"Yeah," Skutch sighed. "Tak's, like, freakishly obsessed with the power the Commander had, and now apparently she's nervous—if he comes back, she's gotta apologize, and she can't do that."

"Well he's not coming back," I said matter-of-factly, finding it hard to keep my voice in a whisper, but managing nonetheless. "Zim's coming out of that Mirror better than he's ever been."

At that moment, I heard Tak gasp, so Skutch and I leaned in from our hiding spot again to see what was going on. Tak stood in front of the Mirror, looking eager, and the glass turned to mist as the Mirror stretched to a fuller length. My heart began beating wildly as a shadow appeared in the mist—human-shaped. I was about to rejoice and clap my hands, and shout out to Tak that she was seconds away from being crushed, but then my heart sank.

As the silhouette took form, all my dreams seemed to die. Tak stood back in awe, activating her human hologram as she readied herself. Zim was not the one to step out of the Mirror. It was his body, I suppose, but it was not him. It was that person who had attacked me before, finally corporeal, and he was frightening.

Skutch's first words upon seeing him weren't too reassuring, either:

"Oh... fuck..."

My eyes were wide and too dry for tears, but I felt dreadful when I saw that terrifying man standing there. He was human only in appearance—_Zim's_ appearance—but his aura was cold and barely even Irken. He was a creature of his own design: utterly unfeeling, yet haughty and stoic. He gave me the chills.

Tak, however, seemed to just barely be containing a shriek of delight, but she was smiling. Her smile was almost as unsettling as Zim's cold new appearance. "It's an honor to see you again," Tak began, speaking slowly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Skutch repeated under his breath.

When Tak was given no response, she prompted her so-called idol with a title:

"Commander?"

The Commander moved his head to look at her and scowled, an unimpressive feature on Zim's face, then cracked his neck to both sides, lifted his right arm, and grabbed Tak by the neck, his blood-shot red eyes never blinking. Her false violet-blue eyes widened as she choked on her breath, and her hands twitched at her sides.

"How disappointing," said the Commander, his voice just as cold and hollow as it had sounded that night in the infirmary, when he'd demanded his sword from me. I wanted to cry so badly. What had happened? Where was Zim? "I had no desire to ever see you again. You were my first traitor, weren't you, Tak?" She was shaking. But proud. "You're not even worthy of a name."

Upon saying that, he threw her to the floor, then drew his enormous, awful sword and held it at her neck. My heart skipped. I was so frozen I couldn't even think. All I knew was that I was scared... petrified. Hurt.

"I was never a traitor!" Tak screamed as the metal touched her neck. "I meant to welcome you back!"

"Lost all your respect already?" the Commander snarled, moving his sword so that it was positioned at her throat, under her chin. "I'll slit your throat and cut your tongue out first. Another word spoken against me is not the first thing I wanted to hear."

Something that really scared me at this point: Tak looked overwhelmed. She looked as scared as I was. _Tak._ The biggest bitch I've ever known, the self-righteous Irken radical who usurped her own leader's position for personal gain, was scared. That was not good news.

"I haven't spoken against you, sir!" Tak protested.

"Ah, but you tried to erase me," the Commander pointed out. "I'd be embarrassed for you if I cared at all. I seem to recall you stressed that in your experiment, didn't you? Emotion." He grinned. "You failed. So I'm going to kill you."

"Commander, no!"

The Commander withdrew his sword and stepped back. "On your feet, Tak. I'd like to humiliate you before you die."

Trembling, she stood, then changed her mind and fell to one knee, bowing. "I'd rather atone, sir," she said plaintively.

For a moment, neither of the two moved. Then, finally, the Commander grinned, and laughed a little, deep, deep in his throat. "Ooh," he said, eyeing Tak sideways, "bad answer."

The tip of his awful sword caught Tak's collar, and he drew her to her feet, then punched her, hard, across the face. Panic struck me again and this time the tears came. Skutch must have seen my reaction, for he pulled me back away from the room. Though still new to acts of human kindness, he was being very gentle, and he kept my head turned away from that room. He was pulling me around a lot lately, but then again, I had never felt more like I needed guidance, direction. I wasn't feeling very emotionally stable. And nothing around me, nothing, nothing, _nothing_ was helping.

I clutched his shirt tightly and demanded, still trying to maintain my whisper, though now it was shaken and scared, "What happened?! What is he doing?!"

"I-I don't understand it," Skutch admitted, looking frightened himself. "Zim's way stronger than that... _he_ should've made it out, not..." He trailed off and bit his lip, peeking briefly back into the room before speaking to me again. "Look, Gaz, um... I'm... sorry, I wish there was something I could say or do, but... I mean, fuck, man, _he's _the one out there!"

"You aren't making this any easier!" I reprimanded, finally giving in and crying. Skutch looked shocked and hurt, seeming ashamed, and guilty of making me cry. It wasn't his fault, though, it was Zim's. What had he done to himself? He'd been so determined when he'd left on his mission... was he really that frightened that he'd let his past get the better of him?

"S-sorry..." Skutch apologized. I buried my face in his shoulder and hugged him tightly, just wanting something to hold onto. "Look, Gaz, uh, we should really get out of here. We _have_ to get out of here. If he sees you, he'll kill you."

"Why would he do that?!" I cried. "Zim wouldn't hurt me!" I'd fallen out of instability and into irrationality. I fucking _hated it,_ but I'd lost my grip.

My back stung. And for a second, I almost wished I could be a machine. To not have to feel that wave of hurt that comes with emotions I thought would give me comfort. Zim used to hold me, touch my hair, tell me to stay strong. I couldn't. I couldn't, I couldn't. Not without him. He had been the one to convince me that I had strength beyond the aggression I'd projected to the world throughout my childhood. That there was meaning out there.

Nope. Gone. Build me up, tear me down; I hated it.

It was so tempting to just want to give into the machine.

My ears hummed.

"Ssh! Keep your voice down! That's not him, Gaz, it's—"

"Now, what have we here? Guests? Or spies?"

I screamed when I heard the Commander's deep, grating voice behind me. I looked up at Skutch, who was staring straight forward, his light blue eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

I turned around, and that's when I saw him.

"Hello, there. Finally, we meet eye to much more functional eye," he said, beginning to walk toward me. I took a step back with every move he made, but his strides were longer, albeit slow, and soon he had me just where it seemed he wanted me: caught. His rough left hand was suddenly stroking my cheek, and then he took my chin in his hand, tilting my head up so that I could look at him.

I closed my eyes and thought back to that one, long-past night, that night on our rooftop, back when the battle seemed easy. Zim had tilted my chin up, just like this, and my eyes had met his gorgeous dark brown ones, and, confused though he was, he had kissed me with all the love in his semi-human heart.

My eyes opened to meet red irises instead of brown. This wasn't Zim. It couldn't have been. His cheekbones were hollow, his eyes were deeply set inside black pits, narrowed to a frozen point. As he looked down at me he grinned, and I felt his warm breath on my face. He looked so much older, especially when he grinned... that awful, dark, sharp as a tack smirk.

"Charmed, I'm sure, princess," he went on in that terrifying voice... Zim's distorted, rougher voice. "That is the word I'm looking for, isn't it? One in your position, about to ascend to her throne."

As I stood there, trembling, he leaned in, pressed up against my ear, so close that I felt his mouth move as he spoke. "But there will be no ascension for you, little Gaz, the Empire's sweet little princess, oh no..." And here he let go of my chin and grabbed my hair. I drew in a gasp and he yanked my head back so that I was once again staring into his frightening blood red eyes just before he leaned in and touched his marked forehead to mine.

"You will never be a queen."

"Hey, get away from her!" Skutch shouted, finally cutting in.

The Commander snarled and recoiled suddenly, and I noticed that Skutch was standing to the side, his weapon drawn. It was a thin sword right now, and he held it at the Commander's throat. "Stay away," he warned.

"What will you do?" the Commander challenged.

"Just stay back!" yelled Skutch. "If you're not gonna protect her, I _will."_

"Oh?"

"It's what the real you wanted me to do."

The Commander grinned, then, and raised his right hand, slowly curling his fingers around the hilt of his enormous sword that was strapped to his back by a single thin chain. Skutch's eyes narrowed as he pressed his own blade closer to his opponent's throat, but the Commander didn't seem to care. "You've a conscience already," he said to Skutch disapprovingly. "You speak of what you think is 'real?' Let me give you a new perspective on reality."

His sword was suddenly drawn, I heard metal crash; at the blink of an eye, the Commander had swung out that broadsword to catch Skutch's blade, and had it now pressed against the wall. Commander glared down spitefully at his own close relative and sneered once again. "Let's make this interesting," he challenged.

"Fine by me," said Skutch, quickly shifting his weapon to the favored _manriki,_ sliding it out and away from the wall, swinging it around once and stepping down to hit his opponent with an upper jab to the chin.

The Commander recovered quickly, cracking his neck to both sides, still smirking. He readied his sword for another blow, but just then, something caught his eye. Tak appeared before us, looking up at her Commander longingly. His eyes narrowed, and he quickly attacked Skutch, moving too fast for me to see the exact move he'd used to bring his opponent to his knees. All I saw was a grab at one of Skutch's false hands.

"Skutch!" I cried. As much as I wanted to run, I had to help him first; I couldn't leave him there.

"Knock yourself out, princess," the Commander muttered, kicking Skutch toward me.

Skutch cringed but did not cry out, and I rushed to him, kneeling at his side. "Go," he told me. "Find your brother. Find Tenn. I can snap out of this."

"No way, I'm not leaving you like this!" I refuted. "What happened? Can you move?"

"Sure, I—" Trying to stand, Skutch finally gave a long cry of pain, curling over himself when his body wouldn't allow him proper movement. "Fuck..." he said frantically, "fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't... move... I can't move... I can't... oh, shit..."

"Hold on, just tell me what happened," I said as evenly as I could. "I can try to fix it..."

"How the fuck'd he do that?" Skutch went on, his eyes wide and full of fear. "One hit and he paralysed me..."

"Para... from where?!"

"Can't move my legs..."

"Here," I offered. "I'll see what I can do."

"You're not a healer, are you?" he wondered frantically.

I shook my head. "But he grabbed your hand, right?" I guessed. Skutch nodded. "So I'll… yeah."

Skutch had healed Zim before, with a shock from his robotic hands. I could do the same, as much as it would mean my own form of giving in. I locked into the energy in the air around me. It was awful. Dusty, dank, heralding death. But I gathered it, all the same. I willed the static electricity in the air into me—not into my hands, but to the spot between my shoulderblades.

Dib wasn't the only one with PAK capabilities in the family. I was Miyuki's heir, too.

And I felt it push against my back. Pulsing and catching breath of its own, the PAK sleeping inside me shocked my own spinal column, and moved my hands on its own. I grabbed Skutch's hands, and felt a current of energy. Friction. All I needed was friction.

I could not heal a human body the way those with Meekrob abilities could. But a machine could repair a machine.

As I worked, I glanced up, and then I couldn't look away.

"What made you think you could interrupt me?" the Commander was demanding of Tak, looming over her.

"Sir, I only want to work for you again," Tak insisted, cautiously lifting a hand to brush it against his cheek. _What the fuck?!_ I thought. As Tak held herself there, her sharp eyes gleamed. "You're back," she mused. A grin appeared on her face as her eyes sharpened. "I knew I could—"

Emotionless, the Commander lifted a hand to meet hers, then pried her hand away and slowly bent it back over her shoulder. Tak's eyes widened, and the Commander snarled, "You're lucky I don't snap your arm in two."

"Sir—"

"Shut up. You don't open that traitorous little mouth of yours until I say you can, understood? That is an order."

Tak opened her mouth to speak, then thought again and nodded, biting her words back, still looking up at her Commander with an awful sort of affection in her eyes.

Keeping her arm back, the Commander continued. "Now, here's a question I'd like you to answer, Tak," he began. His presence was so cold, I shivered even from where I sat. "What were you expecting of me? Speak."

"Simple. I wanted us to work together," Tak explained. "I wanted to march on to true Invasion with you, sir. You used to be a beacon. You were the Empire embodied, and I was a fool for doubting that you ever could be again. I wanted to restore you. My aims were your own. You needed to wake up, sir, and I found the means to do just that for you! I want to Invade and conquer with you, sir. That was all I wanted from the beginning."

"Subjecting me to such forms of humiliation..." the Commander growled, his voice sounding even deeper with subdued rage as he backed Tak up against the opposite wall with slow, heavy strides, "making me a laughing-stock... exposing to all the world my weak inner human... giving me this vulnerable lesion on my right arm!"

He had her against the wall now, and he slammed her against it, then held her up, studying her with his blood-red eyes. "What do I look like to you right now, Tak?" he demanded in a dark bellowing tone. "Where is my honor, my power, my Empire now? I still look like a fucking human! My blood smells like iron."

"But," Tak fought, "my methods were all for the best—"

"Spare me that nonsense."

"I wanted to work—"

"Why the fuck would I ever work on equal ground with someone as low as you?" the Commander snapped, dropping Tak to the ground only to pick her back up and slash her across the face with the sharp dagger charm he wore around his right wrist. Tak screamed and recoiled, giving Zim's dark, embodied half more than enough room to haul her around and toss her into the wall, then yank her back toward him again, keeping his dagger charm at her throat. "What power do you have to offer, Tak?" he spat, his eyes gleaming with rage. "None. You have nothing. You are a weak, miserable, lying excuse for a soldier. Miyuki! Miyuki was powerful. That little girl over there, she holds more power than you. She and her brother I can manipulate to my advantage, but what are you, Tak? _What are you? _ Low. Low as the day our wretched planet spat you out. You've nothing to offer me but this human appearance. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."

I'd finished my work by this time, and my back and hands burned to prove that the job had been done, so I motioned to Skutch to stand, helping him up, finding that I'd done quite well at healing him. I could congratulate—or utterly despise—myself later, I thought, as he took me by the hand and began to quietly lead me out.

"They're... leaving..." Tak choked out as her response to her Commander, looking over at us.

The Commander looked over at us, then cut Tak across the face again and tossed her into the wall at the far end of the room she'd entered from.

Suddenly, his rough right hand grabbed my arm and he flung me around to face him, twisting my arm back as he did so, not letting go. "What's the rush, princess?" he sneered, letting go and swiping at me with the dagger charm on his wrist.

"Leave her alone!" Skutch demanded, fighting him back.

Moving quickly, the Commander separated me from Skutch and hauled me away. "Hello again," he breathed down my neck.

"Get off!" I screamed.

"Lovely, lovely, _lovely!"_ the Commander shouted, then burst out into a wild, maniacal laugh, one with no regard toward feelings or humanity. He continued laughing as he grabbed my neck and shoved me head-on into the wall. In one swift motion, he pressed up against me, his breath on my skin as he yanked my head back with a firm grip on my hair. "Trapped," he grinned, his face closer to mine than I ever would have wanted it. When he grinned, I got a good, long look at his perfectly white teeth... in particular his sharp, predatorial eyeteeth. My heart sped up and wouldn't stop. I was at the mercy of a monster, with more than enough power at his disposal to tear me to shreds. "Trapped little girl, where is your mother?"

"Please..." I tried, "please let me go..."

"Seriously, let her go!" Skutch hollered, ready with his _manriki, _just feet away.

"You're being obnoxious," the Commander snarled, turning around, keeping almost careless hold of me. My entire being stung. He stared Skutch down for a moment, then smirked slightly. "Well..." he began, looking over at the other room, "we always could make this interesting. I do enjoy watching indescriminate battles between former allies. Tak!" he snapped.

A moment later, Tak appeared in the doorway between the two rooms, and Skutch thought quickly, swinging his _manriki _around to create a double-ended blade, should he need to attack both opponents in rapid succession. The Commander saw this but did not react. Instead, he continued with his orders. "Tak," he demanded, glaring at her, "this is your only chance to redeem yourself. Deal with that one. Miyuki's heir is coming with me."

"Sir..?" Tak asked submissively, almost standing straight. Seeing her beaten like a dog was such a new concept to me; I would have liked it had I not been another target for torture.

The Commander snarled, glowering at her. "You aren't acting," he barked. "I gave you an order, you half-trained, brain-dead pile of rubbish. Act on it!" He spat at her feet, then growled, "Is that plainly fucking clear?"

Tak narrowed her eyes and nodded, then drew a sword from her belt and turned to face Skutch. "No way," Skutch muttered. "No fuckin' way. I've gotta help her..."

"You're not going anywhere," said Tak, taking the opportunity to strike first. Skutch countered masterfully, but it was clear that his intentions were being interrupted.

"Skutch!" I cried out as the Commander began to haul me back. I struggled in vain against him, which seemed to amuse the monster to no end.

Skutch glanced over his shoulder, which almost cost him his neck, since Tak struck out at that very moment. He was quick to counter again, though, forcing Tak off to the side. She bounced back, grinning. "I should have known you wouldn't have gone off and died like a good little exile!" Tak laughed, striking out again only to be stopped. "Amazing to see how far those new hands have taken you!"

That, it seemed, struck the right chord to get Skutch wanting to fight. "You shut up!" he snapped at Tak, shifting his weapon into a heavy mace and striking Tak in the side of her head. I should have known she wouldn't fall, since he'd technically only hit a strong exoskeleton of a hologram. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you with these hands!"

When Tak only laughed in response, Skutch growled and shifted his weapon back to its neutral state, tucked it into his boot, then removed his right glove. "No," he said, charging an electric shock, "I meant it."

He hit her with a blast, and that was when the Commander began hauling me away again. "Must be on our way, my dear."

"Let me go!" I demanded. "SKUTCH!"

Skutch began to race toward us, but Tak drew herself out of the aftershock and pulled him back. "I'm coming!" he called over his shoulder. "I'll deal with this, and then I swear, I'm gonna find you, okay?!" He swiped out at his opponent, and added, "Backup's comin', Gaz! Just hold on!"

I closed my eyes, praying for some kind of miracle. Zim's voice echoed in my head: _"Stay strong."_ His voice was already so far away... I almost heard Skutch saying it more easily than I heard Zim. My life was dilapidated. The puzzle of my life was breaking apart again, falling into shambles. Nothing fit anymore. My dad and brother were in different parts of Devastis, and I'd made no recent contact with Dib, at that. My mother was off in God knows what dimension. We'd led our army into the stars, but if there was still talk of Invasion, how long could the Corporation hold on back home? Large hands held me, hands I'd known before, now changed, rough, calloused. Zim was gone. His fear had materialized, to instill fear in us all. I had no way of knowing where his mind had gone. I loved Zim, or I thought I did.

No, I realized, I did. I loved Zim, but had dismissed the rest of his life as a nightmare. Now that the nightmare was real, though, I needed to fight. Where Zim had shown fear, I needed to show compassion. I had to. I wanted to save him. I needed to save him. The only question was how.

...And how to truly awaken Zim's own mind again, so that he could overcome the Commander.

When I looked up at him again, the fear returned and my resolve was once again gone. God, was he frightening. I can think of nothing worse. No one worse. The Commander was death, evil, and Hell personified. I couldn't do it. I couldn't love him. Or trust him.

There was only fear.

Maybe Zim hadn't been the one to falter. I had. All along.

_Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong,_ he had repeated, to someone who still was not strong enough. I thought I could do better. I wanted to, but fear is such an ugly, awful thing. Fear kills every other human emotion, eats away at it.

Overcome—somehow—overcome—

"Let me go," I whispered again.

"This would be much easier if you would remain silent," said the Commander, unmoved. "I have such great things planned for you, little girl."

Frantically, I grabbed at my wristwatch. "I can call my brother," I warned. "He can be here in—"

The Commander only laughed. "Oh, no, he's not going anywhere, my dear, and neither are you."

I felt like screaming. "Where's Dib?!"

"Why, simply waiting for you."

"WHERE IS MY BROTHER?!" I cried.

The Commander whispered out, "Hush, princess. He's waiting for you at the end of this horrible, mocking Prophecy."

Using just the force of his hand, he then knocked me out of consciousness in one blow.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Commander, you can't just go using that Mirror as a transportation device and knocking people out at will, that isn't very nice of you. D:

I was… reluctant to kill MiMi, I'm going to be honest. ^^; I have issues with sudden deaths (but I did it to both Nacea and MiMi so I shouldn't really say anything), but they do serve certain purposes…

So now the Commander's got both of his weapons around, I finally got round to bringing Tak in again (I do enjoy her~), and… yeah I really have fun with the villain stuff. XD Hope you are enjoying it!

I'm taking a break next week from both this and my other fic, so I'm sorry to leave you hanging on this, but it'll pick right back up here on **Friday, August 24****th****!** :3 See you then!

Thank you so much for reading~~! :D

~Jizena

– – –


	9. Devastis 4: Grudge

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Dib's Records_

The state of having been knocked unconscious is an interesting one. It was one that I'd thought about plenty of times before, as a kid. Oh, I studied all kinds of anomalies of consciousness… somnambulism, dreams, alternate dimensions in my own head (don't get me started), comas, unconsciousness, death itself and reanimated bodies. I thought about that kind of thing all the time. I'd get distracted by ghost hunts, aliens, conspiracies, more aliens, my sister duct-taping my mouth shut… but nearly every night before I fell asleep, I'd wonder if I'd dream. And what about.

That was usually the one time of day I'd ever think about my mom, back then. I'd wonder if the way I was living my life would have been something she'd like, or something she'd shoot down like Dad had started to. But then I'd just slip into a dream that reflected my day, or I'd have a regular little-kid nightmare, or I'd just have my brain shut off till morning.

I'd always figured it was that shutting off that happened in true unconsciousness. It had taken watching my godfather fall into a coma for me to wish dreams upon that state instead.

I didn't dream, after the blow to my head in the bowels of the central city of Devastis. I perceived. I saw.

Through a kind of Meekrob third eye, in particular. As soon as I tapped into the universe, the way Nacea had taught me, the way I'd tried to show to Victor before he went under, I knew that something had gone wrong… but that it was something I could fix. I saw color, I saw light, I heard an eerie kind of sound that created a sort of music from everything around me. I felt pressure on my body but a lightness in my mind.

I heard voices, too. Random, whispered knowledge, from everywhere. The data the Meekrob had been collecting for centuries.

Within consciousness lies the self. Comprising the self are a great many factors. We are made of memories, which are tools that we can use to better ourselves, to seek further knowledge, to become closer to that humming, bright universe. Or, we can shut everything out. There are those who see light when they close their eyes and dream, and there are those that consciously choose to see nothing at all.

I wondered about Irken consciousness. About whether or not they even had a chance to witness the knowledge of the universe, as the Meekrob did, or as dreaming humans could, or if that was something that had been taken away by Control Brain supremacy. To have only one form of consciousness… it must have taken an awful toll on one's motivations. There would be a visible representation of everything.

Relying so much on PAKs must have been so confusing. Or perhaps not, if that was all the Irkens knew.

I wondered how Ira had seen it. Wondered how, alternately, Red had begun to feel about human consciousness. Zim had certainly embraced it, for it was the complete opposite of all he'd ever known.

I wondered if I'd ever get to speak to Nacea again, if my unconsciousness could ever take me that far…

Chairman Xeer had told me that the Meekrob would aid us in our greatest time of need. This may not have been that time, but I had to believe that they saw me. That they knew that things were growing dire, and that it was highly probable that we would be in need of their wisdom, guidance and assistance soon.

And since they were not fighters, I knew exactly why they had not come, as soon as I opened my eyes.

It was interesting… coming out of unconsciousness, I was not groggy or disoriented at all. My eyes simply snapped open as if I'd enjoyed a good night's rest. It was waking up that was the nightmare. That was what I thought at first, anyway.

The first thing that I was able to register was that my arms were tied tightly behind my back… to another set of arms, at that; leaner, thinner—Gaz…?

"Gaz?" I asked in a whisper, nudging my elbows back somewhat.

"Mmph," she responded, sounding worse for the wear than I felt. She'd never seen the universe, she'd never studied with the Meekrob. I did hope that someday they could teach her more.

We were tied up back to back, sitting in the middle of a pale red floor, of a domed, reddish-grey room with low ceilings and, as far as I could see from where I stood, two ways out. There were no windows. Ducts and wires hung down from the ceiling, indicating the place's misuse over what must have been a dreadfully long period of time.

"What's going on? You okay?" I asked my sister.

She choked, and pressed up against me. When her shoulders touched mine, I felt a twinge in my back. As if the Irken parasite inside me had felt some need to react. "I'm trying to be," Gaz told me honestly. "Dib, something's really wrong…"

"Are you hurt?" I had to know, craning my neck around to try to look at her.

But as soon as I let my field of vision shift, I knew that I hardly needed her to answer. Between the room's two exits, my eyes finally registered, was a circular stage, which looked like it once had held a large computer. Steps led up to a small pedestal, behind which were neglected wires for the long since removed device.

Currently, however, it was being used as something of a chair. Sitting comfortably atop the pedestal was someone that I recognized only slightly. His hollow eyes were red, rather than brown; he held at the ready the enormous sword known as _Osdraken._ On his forehead, the red Irken Elite symbol.

I choked on my breath, and grabbed hold of my sister's hand. Just to reassure her that I was there, and would not let anything happen to her.

Not at the hands of the Elite Commander.

Sitting a couple steps down from the high pedestal was GIR, eyes red, awaiting orders. Something was different about the little robot's chassis… his right arm looked exactly like MiMi's…

What the hell?

No way had Zim lost to his past. No fucking way. No. Something was off, something was wrong—he was better than that, stronger than that; the Commander was a thing of the past. I'd put a lot of faith in Zim to succeed. Gaz had, even moreso.

To the Commander's left, hovering slightly over the ground, was my mother's Mirror. Its glass was currently black, empty. I knew very well what kinds of things that Mirror could do. Just what was he doing with it…? How and why was it here?

Why the fuck had Zim lost…?

No—I told myself. Not lost. He hadn't, he couldn't have. Otherwise, that body would not have been human.

The Commander grinned when he saw that I'd become aware of his presence, and stood. He took his time descending the few stairs until his thick boots clacked out their heavy steps on the reddish floor. "Well, well, well," he said, taking his time to milk each syllable, lowering his inflection with each repetition of the word. "Looks like we can finally get started."

I glared up at him, discovering as I did that a corner of the right lens of my glasses had been chipped. That fuck. It wasn't enough to be much of a distraction, but it was still something that would bother me a little. It more or less summed up how I felt, too: I wasn't completely angry. There was just a crack in my nerves.

Because I do not put faith in just anyone. I raised myself, thank you. I trusted people as they proved themselves to me. I had been collecting family around me, and loving the fact that, for once in my life, I had a community. Few people had ever really believed in or trusted me, until recently. Gaz had always been there, Dad was there now; I'd fallen in love with Lex and adored her enthusiasm for her work, and Zim—fuck, he was part of the family, too. I'd been repeating these things to myself like a mantra.

I was not angry at him for having lost, no. The situation was what bothered me. The fact that maybe I had had a lapse of judgment annoyed me. But as far as Zim went: all I could think of was the fact that if he'd lost his fight, I'd lost a friend. And I hate losing people.

"How the hell did you get out?" I demanded, cutting out any other unpleasantries that could serve as a greeting to the current situation.

"Impatient, aren't we?" the Commander taunted me right back. "I won. That is all you need to know."

"Why?" I spat.

The Commander scowled, and crouched to my level, brandishing the dagger charm on his right wrist. "Because I always win in the end," he said in a dark tone. "I always get what I want."

"Only because you just fucking take it," Gaz snarled.

When she spoke, I noticed that GIR moved slightly, to stand at attention and take action, should he be needed. The Commander gave me a final glance over, then stood and worked his way around, to stand over Gaz. "Exactly," he said to her, his voice low and cold. "That is the only way to guarantee success, you see. That is how I became the Elite Commander. And that is why I am in command once again."

A thought hit me. A thought, stemming from a memory that was stuck, tugging at my mind.

I hadn't really fought against Zim in a long, long time. He never really could accept defeat, could he? Every defeat, he dismissed as a mistake, or sometimes a new challenge, sometimes even a victory.

Hoping he wouldn't notice, I tugged a little at the bond that tied me to my sister. Yeah, it was pretty strong, and—wait a second… I looked around, and discovered my sword, and Gaz's daggers, lying in plain view on the far wall. So he was planning on us breaking free. He was planning on us making a run for our weapons, and fighting him.

He enjoyed the struggle. Just so he could gloat.

So how could I fight him without stepping into that trap…?

I felt for the watch on my wrist, and tried not to sigh with relief when I found it. From the look of it, we were the only ones the Commander had taken into that room. I refused to believe that he'd taken Red out after me; Tenn's group should still be safe; Skutch was hopefully all right… we still had the rest of the army. Did he know that? Or was leaving me my only method of communication purposeful? I didn't want to underestimate him, but, then again, if this guy minus his memories had created the nonsensical, erratic yet still destructive _Invader_ Zim, then…

Fuck it. It was worth a shot.

Worth more than feeding the Fear he so prided himself in being.

If there was one thing Zim could never fight against me with, it was the simple use of words. Logic. Yes, he might get pretty fucking angry, but I had to start tripping a nerve somewhere.

"The only way to get ahead, little Gaz, is for me to take what I need," the Commander went on. "I want something to burn, I burn it. I want the resources a planet can provide? I take them. The universe belongs to the Empire, and I will not have you two disgusting anomalies getting in my way."

_No,_ I thought. _The universe belongs to anyone with a conscience._ To those who take the time to learn. Not just take and destroy.

"What're you going to do with us?"

"Kill you," he said, without hesitating. "Eventually. There's just one thing I need first… to make this spectacle exactly what I need it to be."

"You have absolutely no feelings," Gaz mumbled.

"That's right, princess," the Commander grinned.

I craned my neck to look at my sister. I had to get her understanding my method. Push the nerve. However I had to go about doing so. "Well," I snorted. "That must suck." …I could have done better. But it was a start.

GIR narrowed his eyes and shot two laser beams out at me from an ocular source. I leaned forward, dragging Gaz—who screamed a little at the sudden movement—with me. We rolled out of the way, a few feet closer to our weapons, and the second I felt myself getting dizzy, I made us stop and got us sitting up again. I apologized to my sister, then glared up at the Commander, whose stern gaze was focused in turn on me.

Keep going till you hit a nerve, Dib, I had to tell myself. That was the only way I was going to puncture this guy.

"A one-track mind is disgusting," I continued. "There's no way you can feel nothing."

"Oh," said the Commander, leering, "that's where you're wrong. I have no heart." The scar across his chest proved it.

But hadn't Zim?

There had to be something…

I tried hard to keep myself focused; to not even blink. "So?"

_"Dib, what are you doing?"_ Gaz hiss-whispered back at me. I shushed her, as the Commander approached, relishing each of his own steps.

"The source of that treacherous emotion," our current opponent began, "is not one that I need concern myself with."

"What?!" I snapped. "That's so fucking presumptuous of you!"

"Dib, stop!" Gaz pleaded. "What're you doing? He's—"

"He's _fucking disgusting,"_ I said. The Commander took to that, and tilted his head back to begin laughing. "No!" I shouted. "No, I'm not done with you!" He sneered down at me, looking more than ready to enjoy another laugh at my expense. "You arrogant prick, the heart pumps blood!" I yelled up at him. "That's what it does. That's just plain old _science._ All you did was cut out one source of energy, to rely on your PAK instead!"

No wonder he looked so tired.

The years he had truly served as Elite Commander, I now realized, made up so little of Zim's full life. But the grudges had lived. The distaste for what he could not understand had persisted. That part of him had not slept, not once, not ever. It must have been exhausting, making his PAK work double, triple to keep up his energy… and all for nothing, really. Yes, he was a heartless bastard.

But cut out an organ, and that was it: all he'd done was cut out an organ. He'd never cut out his ability to feel. That was a part of him, one that he had to become human to fully understand, but one that had been with him all his life.

He'd worn himself out by ignoring it.

Oh, there it was. That was our edge. I could only hope that Gaz could see past her own fears in order to play a part in getting us freed and turning this whole ordeal around.

"And what's wrong with that?" the Commander glowered at me. "Originals are a dying breed, and—"

"And you refuse to be a part of that," I finished for him. "Am I right?!"

"You would do best to not interrupt me," my opponent snapped. "You are only furthering your demise."

"I thought you needed one more thing," I said, "before you could kill us."

"Ideally. But death is death," he grinned, drumming his fingers against his sword. "How it meets you and when are factors that matter very little to me."

There he went again… turning a possible wrong turn into a chance for victory…

"You've… kinda regressed," I pointed out, knowing full well that the Commander probably wanted nothing more than to strike me down for that.

He scowled. "Mind your words, you insignificant—"

Shit… I would have laughed if I hadn't been so afraid that a quick death was waiting for me if I did. I was reading more into this past version of Zim by the second. Fear is interesting. It manifests itself so clearly. One man's fear could look like nothing but a simple person or an object to another. The thing about the Commander, the thing that he prided himself in, was that he _looked_ threatening. He had it all, every means necessary to be the most powerful killer in the Irken military. To be the one person above all others to instill fear in the enemy.

He had it all going for him. He was tall. Visibly physically strong. His scars showed his passion for battle, his face showed an unbreakable emotionless coldness. He made good on his threats.

Yes. He had power. He was talented as a soldier. He could probably cut my fucking throat out if he could hear my thoughts (and thank God he couldn't, because I'd've been dead in seconds). He wielded not just a fearsome weapon but one of the Irken Talismans.

But for someone so sure of his own methods… why had he never broken _Osdraken_ himself? Why not do away with the greatest opponent to the Irken race? All that conquest, all that war…

And he had not turned against his own government. The thing that was controlling him. The thing that his PAK answered to even if his neglected Originality did not. No, he'd just wanted to be the best within the Empire that already existed. So that he could claim something. Take away the Brains and there was no Empire, not the way he'd known it. He could speak out against whatever he wanted, but he was just as much a mindless drone as any of the others. Worse, even.

He just didn't want to hear about it.

And he'd always been that way.

He had always, always, always, as long as I had known him, tried to be the best at what he could be. His _perception_ of what was the best. He chose what was true and what was false. He chose what was strong and what wasn't. He chose what was useful and what wasn't.

That was just the way Zim operated.

And fuck if I didn't have notebooks upon notebooks from elementary school about it.

To conquer Earth, Invader Zim had come to my hometown. Which, I mean, come on, wasn't exactly Washington, DC. He'd've done better somewhere other than a city that wasn't even a state capitol. But there he was. Making the best of what he had. Trying to take out Earth from his base in my town. When I got in his way, conquest then had to take a back seat to wiping out the opposition.

So it was, so it continued to be—he may have wiped his memories of having been the Elite Commander, he may have become much more subtle (and, okay, much more stupid) in his tactics, but the drive… the drive was there. The want to prove himself. Flaunting his exploits. Taunting me because he knew he could, because he believed that Irkens were superior and humans were stupid. And that he was superior to the others of his class.

That jerk finally started to come around thanks to Tak turning him human. To him discovering emotions. To Gaz helping him figure them out. I'd gladly started thinking of him as a friend once he put that stubborn drive to better himself to good use. Rather than flaunt power and take lives, Zim had begun to trust, learned how to accept that some deeds were better suited to others, and he could put his own strengths to use on different tasks. He'd opened himself up. He had developed a respect for life.

Originality was an interesting concept to me. By all accounts, the Irkens with the Original gene would have been more likely to understand humans. Skutch and Tenn seemed to, sure. Red did. He'd even admitted it. Even Tak did. Tak especially, when I thought about it. She understood the bridge between our races, and sought to tie them—albeit for her own selfish purposes, but still.

The Commander, however… the Commander drowned all that out. Because I was pretty sure that Miyuki had been the closest thing he'd ever had to an actual conscience. He listened to her. Trusted her, even. But without her, he had nothing. So he shut everything out.

Irkens see everything in the shade of the color of their eyes.

Humans, for the most part, don't. We can see an unfathomable assortment of colors.

Irkens repress their 'unnecessary emotions.'

Humans don't. Oh, we can bitch about them all we want, but at the end of the day, we'd be nothing if we couldn't express ourselves the way we wanted to. We could spill our thoughts for hours or we could keep things in. Some of us act out, some of us don't.

Irkens do not address fear; humans can understand and learn from it.

The machines made the Irkens monochromatic, whereas humans… we had the spectrum.

Zim had started to understand that.

I knew exactly what it was he was really afraid of.

You can blame my exhaustive notes for that. I know Gaz does.

"Hey," I said, cutting the Commander off mid-sentence.

"I told you not to interrupt me!" he hollered. "You are nothing but a thorn in my side, a threat to my—"

"Mission?"

Lightning fast, the Commander held out the sharpened end of his dagger charm and struck me across the face. Gaz screamed, which was the first thing that I registered. Not the sting from the cut, not the hot, thick blood that gathered at the wound. My sister's scream.

She was completely shutting down, and I could not stand seeing that.

All right… _now_ I was angry. Lost in his own mind or not, Zim had no place treating her like this. No place taunting her, hurting her—not when I knew he actually _could_ do better. "What is it?" I demanded through clenched teeth, glaring up at my opponent.

"What's that, human?"

"Tell me, as long as you're milking it! What's the other thing you need?!" I shouted. "What is it you want? You're taking what you want? Okay! Tell me what the hell that is!"

The Commander studied the two of us. His eyes unblinking, he looked me up and down first, and then Gaz. Like a scientist looking for an answer in a new specimen, his eyes soaked in every detail. From the looks of it, he was not pleased with what he saw. Sunken, his eyes showed nothing but a terrible hatred. "I should not need to explain why I despise you," he said dourly. "This _Prophecy_ of the Brains… hmf. Heirs? Don't make me laugh. Heirs so unworthy of the Empire left behind by the only Tallest worth following…"

"So you hate us because we're…?" I prompted him.

"Human. And yet you are hers."

Furious, the Commander turned away from us. GIR watched his every move. While he had his back turned, I nudged Gaz, and whispered, "It's gonna be all right. Follow my lead."

"What're we doing?" she wondered.

"Might get messy, but we've gotta outsmart him."

Gaz nodded. "I was… kinda thinking the same thing," she said. "When I _can_ think. Ugh. If we can just… Zim's gotta still be in there. He's just… he's just got to wake up…"

"So let's be the alarm," I decided. "You gonna be okay?" My sister nodded again. "Okay." I took in a deep breath, reading the static in the air, and began to will energy into the palms of my hands. "Let's break out of this."

"How—oh…"

Gaz caught on fast, and helped my realization by gathering energy of her own. Neither of us really had a way of cutting out of the bonds, but it wasn't metal holding us together. We could burn it off. If we planned well enough, and took things easily. No blasting, just easy, easy…

As we worked, the Commander strode over toward the Mirror, and circled it once. He studied its ornate frame, then set a hand on the edge, running his fingers over the odd yet curiously alluring carved design. "Better be watching for the finale, human," I heard him mutter. "She'll be last, you know."

"What was that?" I called over.

"We're nearing the end," he said, not turning away quite yet. "Or, at least, you are soon to meet yours. The others are sure to notice your absence soon."

"Oh, so who's it you're after?" I felt the rope begin to give. Any second now… "Red?"

"Red became incompetent," the Commander said disapprovingly. He began to walk back toward us just as the rope frayed and gave enough for Gaz and I to shake it off. Thinking fast, though, we pressed up closer together, back to back. "Red is not important to me."

"Is anyone?" Gaz mumbled over at him. With our backs to the wall, Gaz and I both made a reach for our weapons. After stretching my fingers out a few times, I managed to grab hold of the hilt of my Tavic sword. The trick was not to let it so much as scrape across the floor until we were ready… "Other than yourself, you monster," she added on an even lower tone.

The Commander heard her, and sneered. "Do you want to know why Miyuki was worthy of her position?" he said, taking a slow step toward us. "Do you want to know why she had power above all others? Why she was chosen to hold an Irken Talisman? Because she had vision. Miyuki's hands created weapons, and those weapons created the Empire. Her weapons made soldiers out of simple Irkens, and one of those chosen few happened to be me.

"And for me—ah!—for me, she crafted this." He held out _Osdraken,_ stroking its blade with the fingers of his left hand. It shone cold off of the eerie, seemingly sourceless light of the room, casting nightmares along the floor. "The _Elite Blade._ Strength attracts strength, you see, and thus my blade became a Talisman as well. We communicated, she and I. With her Mirror as a portal and my blade as executioner, I could take out a planet in an instant before the alarm could be raised."

"So what does this have to do with you wanting to kill us?" Gaz challenged him.

"You exist."

"You can do better than that," I complained.

The Commander cracked his neck to one side, then the other, and GIR copied his motion from where he stood. Our opponent basked in the grim light for a moment, then drew in a long breath, and scowled down at us, still not seeming to have noticed that we had made the silent grab for our weapons. "That I can," he said to me. "Your existence, you see, is a great threat to the Empire that I carved out for Tallest Miyuki."

He paused, as if to test us, wondering if that explanation was sufficient. It certainly wasn't, though I was pretty sure I knew where he was going with his semi-anecdote. If I was right, we would definitely have an edge, because I'd be able to shoot him down with the very thing he was trying to avoid. Assuming we timed things right, anyway.

One more thing he needed, huh? Before killing us?

The difference between the Commander and the Invader was the ability to use force. To make good on threats. I probably couldn't out-talk the Commander the way I'd been able to outsmart Zim back in elementary school, but the tactics could at least help a little. If the Commander said he'd kill us, he was definitely getting around to that. But he was stalling. One more thing…?

_Please tell me it's what I think it is…_ I felt myself start musing, as disturbing and disgusting an idea as it was…

If I was right though… yeah, we'd have a chance in this…

First thing was first, though. Keep him talking. And the best way to do that was throw every curve ball I could. "You know, maybe some things never change, but you did," I said. "You started to, anyway. You still can."

"Pray tell, human," he scowled at me, "why would I want to?"

"So you can stop hiding behind your delusions."

"Emotions are delusions!" the Commander snapped. I had his attention! Good. He took the opportunity to lunge forward. He raised his broadsword over his head, and shouted out, "All that matters is—"

Gaz cried out, and rushed out of the way, clambering to her feet upon taking up her daggers. I, too, darted out of _Osdraken's_ path, then took my opening to stand and strike back against the Commander. My sword clashed against his, managing with the arc of its path to shove him aside. The Commander growled and righted himself, then punched me across the face, in the same place where he'd cut me earlier. I cried out from the sting of it, and felt the wound open somewhat. Not letting that stop me, however, I feinted back away from the Commander, and held my sword at the ready.

"What, yourself?!" I shouted, to complete my opponent's predictable thought. "Your position, your conquests, the Empire? That's not a reason, Commander, that's an _excuse!"_

"Excuse?" he mocked me. "It is drive."

"Misguided, maybe, but it's not what you really want at all, is it?" I smirked. "You lost your real drive when you lost—" _Take the fucking bait, asshole…_

Gaz caught on right away. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, with a slight gasp. I grinned. We were on the same page.

He'd said it himself: he had carved out the Empire for her.

_When you lost Miyuki._

I let the Commander finish the sentence in his own head. And, oh, he did, and _oh,_ was he pissed. "I lost _nothing,"_ he growled at me, bringing his sword down on me again. I blocked, but the force of his blow got me to my knees. His eyes burned, bloodshot, and he kicked me down onto my back. Before he could bring his heel down onto my head, I rolled out of the way, and stood back. He lashed out again immediately, adding onto his thought, "She was _taken from me."_

"She!" I laughed, proud to have been right on what my edge against that guy could be. "Do tell, Zim!"

_"COMMANDER,"_ he insisted. "Nobody calls me by that name but—" He cut himself off with an incensed growl, then struck out again. He managed to nick my left shoulder with the very tip of his blade; it felt like ice against my skin, but I got off with little more than a scratch and a couple wrecked garments when I feinted back.

"So you're gonna kill us? _This_ is how you're getting back at… what, her?" I spat at him, trying not to show just how proud of myself I was for hitting him right where it could really start to hurt. The more I kept up this kind of verbal fighting… jostling, really… the better a chance I figured Zim would have of hearing me. And maybe not me, but Gaz, once she found her own words.

We could still do this. We could get him back.

"Fate?" I continued. "What? What are you so afraid of?"

"I fear nothing. I _instill_ it."

"Why?" Gaz asked.

He reeled, turning on her, eyes on fire.

"What's the one thing you need before you kill us, Commander?" Gaz scowled at him. "Is it some_thing,_ or some_one?"_

Furious, the Commander grabbed my sister and shoved her against the wall. I shouted out her name, and instantly had to dodge another GIR laser blast that would have severed my foot from my ankle had I not managed to get out of the way in time.

"I don't think I need to make myself any clearer, princess!" the Commander hollered into Gaz's face, while he had her pinned. "While the two of you live, you are a threat to me. While it is thrilling to have opposition, I do need to dispose of you. You, and your thieving human father."

_"I KNEW IT!"_ I cried out.

Irkens sure do hold grudges. I knew it, I knew it, I fucking knew it…

The Commander had not slept for years… he had not fully been laid to rest, and watched from microchips in Zim's PAK as the world changed around him, while he stayed the same. He took in new knowledge, but in a frozen mindset. This much I knew was true: he had been in love with Tallest Miyuki.

I knew he had been. The way he talked around it proved it to me even more. He had failed in saving her from the 'death' he was then blamed for, and decades later, he was to learn that not only had she moved on, she'd had children.

Zim could still wake up. The Commander was a terrifying entity, for the sheer fact that, _yes,_ he got nearly everything he wanted, through acts of senseless violence. But deep, deep inside him, one thing remained the same.

Losing someone you love is a lot harder to deal with when you couldn't accept that you ever loved them in the first place. And without a grasp of a full set of emotions… yes. I could kind of see how someone would go insane. Not that I'd condone it whatsoever—hell, if Zim couldn't wake up, I… well, I really didn't want to think about what measures I'd have to take in that case.

So for now, what Gaz and I both had to do was just trust… and hold on.

"Our dad?" I mocked the Commander. "You're using us to get at our _dad?!"_

Admittedly, Red had wanted to do the same thing. He'd made a wrong turn and taken Ira instead. If that was the case, the Brains must have had it out for him, for 'taking' Miyuki…

"You've a very simple mind," the Commander bit at me. "No. You will die first. I want to enjoy every moment of destroying him. You will die, and then that wretched man. And then," said the Commander, turning back to Gaz, "you. You are going to die last." He leaned in close and rasped out, "You will die slowly. Over a period of years if need be. You will witness the deaths of your father and brother, and then I shall relish in destroying you. Beat by beat of your disgusting human heart… you, Miyuki's daughter, are an unworthy object of affection for my human half to have chosen; beat by beat, you'll feel yourself die for that. If you were not an Heir, you would be nothing. I think nothing of you. He never should have entangled himself with you.

"While he lives inside me, he will watch you suffer."

"Zim's alive?" Gaz whispered, eyes wide.

"Not for long."

I had half a mind to drive my sword through his gut at that point, but I remembered just in time that we did kinda need Zim to stay alive. I had to wait for a better kind of opening.

Gaz found it first. "I get it. You're jealous," Gaz said, her voice cracking somewhat. She was afraid to speak, I could tell, but her words needed to be heard.

"Shut up! Petty jealousy has nothing to do with—"

"You're _jealous,"_ she repeated. Gaz gathered her breath, and I saw the gears in her head turning as she continued to speak. "Maybe you're strong, maybe you're powerful, maybe you talk big, but your grudge died a long time ago, didn't it?" The Commander said nothing, but looked ready to kill. "Did you love the _power_ my mom had, or did you love her for who she _was,_ and then just followed her from there?! You loved her. Right? And she rejected you? She chose my dad over you, and you're too _fucking absorbed with yourself to admit that you LOST SOMETHING!"_ Her voice sounded raw; tears clung to her eyes. But God, was I ever proud of my sister.

"DO NOT SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY!" the Commander roared.

He struck her across the face, causing her to scream.

I darted forward, and grabbed the Commander off of her, forcing him off to the side. I noticed, when I did so, how awful the scars on his back looked. Decaying skin surrounded the crossed scars, turning the area brittle, putrid. I tapped into the air, and gathered an orb of energy in my left hand, which I then hurled at his back, causing him to let out something that could have been construed as a cry of alarm.

"Gerohnod!" he ordered.

"Ger-what?" I had to ask.

"Oh, shit," Gaz said. "Dib, move!"

In a split second, GIR's image shifted as MiMi's could—in the robot's place stood a figure with cyborgean human qualities, arms enhanced with robotic parts that seemed to have the ability to take out opponents in an instant. When I got over the sudden marvel of the situation, I yelped and put a barrier around myself just in time to block a blast he sent my way from a glowing pad on his left palm. "FUCK!" I cried out. "How long's he been able to do that?!"

"Long enough to screw us over," Gaz remarked.

"Well, shit."

I kept my barrier up, and GIR—well, Gerohnod—sent two more blasts at me. Furious to not have broken past me, he held out his enhanced right arm. The wires surrounding his forearm began to snake around what appeared to be skin, and the orb at the center of his palm glowed. Shit… he was charging a cannon…

I took in a deep breath.

"I am not the sort of person to be weakened by simple jealousy," the Commander scolded my sister. "I built my life from nothing, you understand me?! I cut out what I did not need. I killed my own Commander to get ahead."

"Why?" Gaz demanded.

"To serve the strongest Empire—"

"The Empire?" my sister quizzed him. "Or _Miyuki?"_

"The two were synonymous! You are beginning to try my nerves, little girl!"

"Because you know I'm right!"

The cannon completely charged, Gerohnod fired. Having been distracted, I took the full force of the blast. I lost my footing, my breath and my weapon in a second, and when I managed to gasp in a breath, I discovered that I'd landed on my back in the center of the room. Forcing myself up, I scrambled out of the way just as the Commander's sentient weapon was rushing at me again. He threw a punch, and I ducked. I gulped in another breath, then shoved my elbow back into his ribs and searched the floor for my sword.

"Looking for this?" Gerohnod said.

I looked up; he'd just scooped the weapon up from the ground, and took a swipe at me. Thinking fast, I clenched my hands together and thrust them upward at his elbow. I heard a crack, and he let go of my sword. "Thanks for that," I panted, gathering the rest of my breath. The blade clattered to the ground near Gerohnod's heel, and I managed to snatch it up while he was repairing his arm.

I spun, then, to check on my sister, still locked in a battle of wits against the personification of the grudge the Commander had been developing over years and years. That man was Fear… he was an image of death, gladly playing the part of the reaper, choosing who he deemed worthy of living and dying. He had held a high position, striking terror into his opponents during the several years of his army leadership.

Part of Zim, as an Invader, had held onto that, whether he knew why or not. At the root of it all, though, was an awful cry for help.

I didn't feel sorry for the Commander. Not really. Not at all. He'd chosen the wrong way to deal with his problems. And he had _plenty._ He was a sociopath. He was homicidal. He was power-hungry. And he just could not deal with the fact that he'd once felt for someone. He could not accept that he'd been in love, and that was destructive. Because he was taking it out on—well, everything.

"Choose one or the other, Commander!" Gaz yelled at him. "You can't have both! You can't have Miyuki _and_ the Empire, you just _can't!"_

"That is not within your jurisdiction to decide."

"No, but it isn't in yours, either," Gaz spat back. "You think you can have everything? You _can't._ Nobody can.

"And I want a world in which things go wrong," my sister continued. Her knuckles paled as she tightened her grip on her daggers, her lip trembled as she spoke, but she held firm, stared down the person who had all but destroyed Zim as he had become, and spoke her peace. "Having everything you want is disgusting, and impossible. The more you get, the more you want, until there's nothing. That's exactly what these fucking Brains are doing, don't you get that?

"Maybe you and Miyuki had something different, but you didn't recognize it back then, and she moved on! You carved out an Empire for her? Well, did she _ask you to?_ I'm gonna doubt that, so I don't blame her for choosing to stay on Earth. She found my dad, and I'm really glad she did or I wouldn't be here. But because she's my mom and because she recognized the flaws in the government that you so pride because it lets you get away with all this stupid killing, I've gotta at least try to help. I've _always_ wanted to help you, Zim.

"You have potential!" she screamed. "You're Original! Don't _lose that,_ Zim, don't _fucking lose that!_ You know what, Commander, you almost got me thinking the way you do. Thinking love is stupid, thinking that emotionlessness is better than feeling pain.

"But fuck that!" she finished. "I'll hate you for being an arrogant asshole and I'll fear you for throwing your power around to kill me, but at the end of the day, Zim, I trust you to do the right thing! SO DO IT!"

"Who are you talking to?" the Commander snarled.

"I'm talking to my _FUCKING BOYFRIEND,"_ Gaz snapped. "So do me a favor and get out of my way."

The Commander took pause. And then scowled. Drew his sword. And turned, to turn his blade on me. I yelped, startled from the sudden attack, and barely had time to duck and get out of the way.

Maybe I was better with words, but having that upper hand had truly made me forget just how much more practiced with a sword the Commander must have been than I was. More than I felt I'd ever be. When he struck again, when I countered, I felt heat surge up my arm as if he'd burned me. I spun from the sheer force of the blow, and felt his hand clench around my neck from behind

He tossed me across room, where I collided with my sister, and the two of us fell to the floor. I looked up just in time to see Gerohnod standing over us, eyes gleaming, right palm outstretched and charging a blast. I dismissed my sword right off and threw myself over Gaz, feeling the shock of the blast hit my back a second later.

My head was spinning. Was it just me, or had everyone gone completely crazy?

_Yes,_ was the nagging answer when I was pried off of my sister and charged into the opposite wall by the humanlike thing GIR had become. I really hate getting tossed around. I hate getting screwed over and betrayed. But mostly, I just hate being unnecessarily tested. I wasn't much better than Zim, in that I hated losing… but what set me, and the people I knew, Zim recently included, apart from the Commander was that I, that we, could get back up and move on.

That's just life. You fail, you get back up and try again.

It's hard for someone with such a deep-seated grudge to grasp that concept, I guess.

I scrambled back up to my feet, gathered energy in my right hand, and hurled it at Gerohnod, just in time to spin again to block a swipe the Commander took at me with his dagger charm. He shoved me up against the wall again and kneed me in the ribs as he shouted, "You see?! I am in control here! You fight with only the intent to escape your fear."

"No," I countered, "I'm fighting you because you don't _listen."_

"You dismiss my strength for petty jealousy!"

"Right. Because your motives are _dead._ Okay?!" I struggled against him, but he held fast. "You're fighting against something you can't undo! What happened to Miyuki happened! Move _on."_

I kicked him in the shin, and he laughed and let me go, only to have Gerohnod spring at me while the Commander himself strode toward my sister. He swept out at her, and Gaz countered with her daggers. She made a point not to physically cut him, but use her weapons only for defense.

"You're strong, little girl," the Commander scowled at her, "but your mother was stronger. And if you had not come along, oh, she and I would have seen great things happen."

When he grabbed hold of her this time, Gaz was ready. She grabbed at his palm and wrist so that he had only a slight hold of her neck, and as I dodged Gerohnod's unrelenting attacks, I watched the courage and strength in my sister rise.

"But I am here," Gaz said, keeping her voice level. "I'm here, and so's Dib. We're Miyuki's kids, okay? She moved on. You need to just accept tha—"

The Commander let out an anguished roar and threw her down.

"GAZ!" I cried out. She'd hit the ground hard, and I prayed I hadn't heard a snap.

Gerohnod struck at me over and over with his robotically-enhanced right arm; I countered, and ducked, and swerved and threw a couple punches of my own, but he was lightning-fast. It was all I could do to dodge and counter… I could barely find an opening to attack.

"GET UP!" the Commander shouted at Gaz. "I'll show you the true extent of what I can do!"

He outstretched his arms, and continued, "Miyuki's was a name to be known! You cannot fathom the influence she had as Tallest! Her machines are unparalleled. Her Talisman can travel space, time, dimensions, as near or far as it needs to go, in search of the truth. She and I together were the embodiments of the power our Brain-delegated Talismans possess. As long as both exist, the Prophecy will never pass, and—"

"That's the bitch of prophecies, though, isn't it?" Gaz spat back at him. "They've gotta come true sometime."

The Commander grabbed her up and held _Osdraken _to her neck. "The Mirror listens to me," he growled at her. "This blade listens to me."

"You wanna know why?"

"Because I have more strength than you could ever comprehend."

Gaz, trembling, shook her head. "Because the Brains own you."

"Insolence."

"You cut out your heart, didn't you? That just made you closer to them. You can still feel, though, right? You can't not be Original."

The Commander pressed his blade closer—

His hand shook.

"ONLY POWER MATTERS!"

"Why?!" Gaz screamed. "Because love didn't work?!"

"Love is _worthless!"_

"Because it proved you wrong?!"

"SHUT UP." The next voice that had spoken was one I was sure I'd be hearing sooner or later.

All activity in the room ceased when Tak appeared in the doorway opposite the Mirror. She, fully in human hologram, looked like she'd been locked in a pretty heated fight, and while she had obviously either won or had dismissed her opponent, she did not look well. She looked—honestly, let down, though eerily optimistic. Her poignant eyes focused on the Commander, ignoring everything else in the room; her lips were pressed flat together so that she could stop herself from saying another word until spoken to.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say that she looked ready to cry.

I saw my sister mouth, _Oh, no…_ My heart skipped. The answer was pretty obvious, then, as to who she'd been fighting, if Gaz had been teamed up with Skutch, and if the Commander hardly seemed surprised at Tak's arrival. I thought to place a call on my wristwatch, but I was afraid to take my eyes off of the scene currently playing out before me.

"Well," said the Commander, his voice taking on its low, blunt tone yet again. "You survived."

"Commander," Tak addressed her superior, a hint of admiration in her voice, mixed with a twinge of unease. "What is past has passed."

"Tell me the result of your battle," Zim's darker half demanded.

"First, sir, tell me that we can move forward." Tak then noticed me, and Gaz, and Gerohnod. But she did not say anything to us. "Stop wasting your time with what was, sir, I'm begging you. Miyuki is no longer the Tallest. But you are here." She tried to grin, but couldn't. "I brought you here. You can't go back. Remember your position only, and move forward. It will be greater than before. Miyuki's era is over. As long as our race is never taken over by these humans, there is the opportunity to advance. A new Empire, sir. Your Empire. But—"

The Commander snorted. "Let me guess. With _you."_

"That was my plan. But—" What was her hesitation…?

A stillness fell over the room, and Tak took her eyes off of the Commander for a brief moment when Gerohnod lost interest in me and strode back toward the abandoned platform beside the Mirror.

"You are not to speak ill of Tallest Miyuki," the Commander chastised Tak.

Tak grimaced, but walked into the room. "If you continue to use her Mirror, you'll never kill your ties to her," Tak said sourly.

Exactly his point, I realized. If the Mirror was one that not only revealed but sought out truth… _interesting,_ I thought. For something so tied to the Control Brains that tried to cut out any similarities between the Irkens and humans, the Mirror was certainly something that seemed bent on creating a bridge. One much different than the one Tak had been forging.

What the hell would happen when we broke it to defeat the Brains…?

Assuming that, between Tak, the Commander, and Gerohnod, we made it out of that room, of course. But I was beginning to feel more and more, every second, that we would. This was going to be a victory. A mindbending one, maybe, but a victory all the same.

The Mirror shone.

Something inside it… one of its properties had just been awakened. Gaz noticed, and made a run for it. Before she could sprint her way over, Gerohnod leapt into her path in time to grab her by the arms and spin her away from the Mirror.

When she was turned to face me, I saw tears in my sister's eyes… but I also saw her show a slight smile. Though I could not fathom why.

"I've had enough of this." The Commander snapped his fingers. Gerohnod dropped Gaz to the floor, and instead shot the talon-like appendages on the fingers of his right hand toward Tak; she yelped as the talons sparked, shocking her out of hologram, and extended and wrapped around her chest, squeezing her arms in as they continued emitting snakes of electricity.

Tak's eyes widened, and for a moment, just a moment, she looked nearly human. Even without the hologram. In her monochrome, synthetic eyes was fear. Worry. The desire to trust and the wariness for doing so.

Wait…

"M—MiMi…?" Tak stared at the appendage. Then at Gerohnod, and finally at her Commander. She passed me and Gaz right by, yet again. "Where is… where's…" Tak then snapped. She grated her teeth, and her eyes flashed rapidly. "WHERE IS SHE?!"

Gerohnod shrugged, and shocked her again. "Oops."

Tak screamed in anguish, then opened up her PAK, and exposed her spider legs. The tips charged an enormous laser, which she used to blast Gerohnod back. He eased up his grip, and Tak freed herself, stored the spider legs, and lunged at the Commander, only to drop to her knees. Gaz hurried out of the way, and rushed to stand directly opposite me. She cast her gaze back at the Mirror once, and a faint smile appeared once again on her lips.

"ALL RIGHT!" Tak screamed. "It's… it's all right, it's all right, I can forgive you for that, I—"

"Did I _ask_ for your forgiveness?!" the Commander spat down at her.

"I—"

My watch beeped. Of all the fucking times to get a call. Not that this was a bad thing, I hoped. I held the watch up briefly, and said, "We're kinda busy, but we need backup!"

"I went to get Tenn and them, and we're on the way." Skutch. Good to know. "Red kept goin' and I think he found the Brains, but—"

"Well, we could use you guys' help," I admitted.

"Tak find you?"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"Were you fighting her?" I wondered.

"Yeah, but then I said somethin' about how MiMi was dead, and she took off."

So MiMi _was_ dead. That really was her arm GIR had now. Interesting. I thanked Skutch and hung up. Backup was on the way, but something told me we weren't going to be having so many opponents much longer.

"Where is Skutch?" the Commander barked at Tak.

"He's—"

"Did you _kill him?!"_

"Not… exactly, but… sir, it was unnecessary to—"

"TO WHAT?"

"If MiMi is dead, then so is a piece of—"

"You did not fulfill the only mission I gave you?" the Commander snapped.

"That isn't important! What's important is that you live and not that—"

"Get out of my sight."

The Commander turned away from Tak, and strode toward the Mirror, only to instantly jerk back. He turned and stormed away from it, looking ready to strike Tak down, simply to kill _some_one, out of rage.

At first, she seemed ready. But I guess even Tak was afraid of death. She bowed her head, then picked herself up. "Commander!" she shouted, glaring up at him. "I am not going to lose you to the humans! You're stronger than Miyuki was. You could be the Tallest! We could move forward, take this Empire in a better direction."

"You're spouting nonsense," the Commander argued with her.

"Everything is nonsense to you."

…Impossible.

No, _improbable._ But it happened.

Zim's voice was coming from the Mirror.

My immediate thought was to look to my sister. She drained of color, then flushed full again as she took in a long, long breath. Her eyes misted, but she did not cry. Her lower lip trembled, but she was able to smile. "Thank you…" she whispered.

The Commander took one more step, and I heard, very distinctly, a rattling of chains, though none could be seen. He then froze, and, without looking at the Mirror, muttered, "You're awake early."

"I figured out your Fear, Commander. I'm not done with you."

Tak whipped her head from the Mirror to the Commander, and when I followed her gaze, I noticed that _Osdraken's_ blade began to emit a slight glow. I was not the only one to catch onto this, apparently: Gerohnod's attention was drawn, and his eyes flashed.

Arms at his sides, the orbs on his palms began to spark somewhat. There was a flashing pulse, alternating soft blue, pale green, and warning red, as if sending a message in morse code. For all I could tell, that was exactly what he was doing. If MiMi had been created with a bit of the Control Brains, and if GIR had held the remainder of the Commander's memories, there was a good chance that we were nearing a moment none of us had really prepared for. Using him as a remote source, the Brains were going to fight back.

"Seems you're a liability after all," he said to the Commander. "As an Original, you compromise your position."

"Liability," the Commander scoffed. "That's absurd."

Before anyone could say another word, Gaz rushed forward, and swiftly punched the Commander's back, directly at the center of his crossed scars. He let out an anguished cry and spun to retaliate, but she, gathering herself, struck his right arm. She then rushed back, energy gathering between her hands, and blasted him, so that he had nowhere to go but closer to the Mirror.

"Look at yourself in the Mirror," Gaz pressured him. "It's Fear of the unknown, isn't it? Fear of truth, and fear of what you can't undo."

"NO!" Tak tried to protest.

"Fear of having no control?" Gaz continued. "Whatever it is, Commander, you're right. You are the embodiment of Fear. You're full of it."

And that was the very moment that I noticed the reflection.

Zim hadn't lost his fight at all.

"It's the fear," I added onto Gaz's statement, "of moving on. The fear of change."

There was so much tied to that.

I had once seen an Irken reflection in my mother's Mirror. So I was prepared for that to pass. I already knew what it was like to have an Irken PAK. Just because I didn't want to become even temporarily Irken did not mean it wasn't a possibility.

The Commander's reflection must always have been human. Afraid of that outcome, he had lashed out. Without digging around in his sordid memories, I'd never know exactly what his process had been, but I figured I'd have the chance to ask Zim someday. If we ever still addressed the Commander and all that he claimed he stood for after this.

He had put so much energy into convincing himself that human emotions were worthless. Spent all of his hours awake and plotting against the species he valued himself over to such a great extent. Over the years, Zim's memories had been tampered with, taunted and tainted. Tak wanted her Commander—to herself. They both aimed to strive for control, but from different angles.

Either way I looked at it, though, love was in there somewhere. Love, trust, hate and fear all together.

Irkens were perfectly capable of having souls.

The Commander was the primary example of someone who knew this, because of how vehemently he denied it. He was denial. He was a grudge. But all he was doing was building up his own fear, for the day it would crash down upon him.

By not accepting the fact that time demands change, he was only on a path to destroying himself. Unless he opened up again, as Zim had started to do. Nobody wants to be stuck in a monochromatic frame of mind forever.

There's so much more to the universe.

"I have control," the Commander spat into the Mirror. "I'm not giving it up now."

"No," Zim's voice rang through. Indeed, the Commander's reflection was not entirely his own. Reflected in the glass was the image we'd grown used to—Zim appeared much, much worse for the wear than even Tak… bloodied, beaten, terribly tired and probably half dead, but he had not given up. He'd held onto his consciousness within the Commander. Ready to embrace the next step in his life. "Time's up," he continued.

One hand reached through the Mirror, and took hold of the Commander's plate of shoulder armor. "We've got some things to negotiate. I'm not letting you keep this charade going any longer."

And with that, the Mirror flashed, and he was gone.

The glass turned to black again, and I half expected Tak to begin railing on and trying to call her Commander back. But she was frozen, stunned, petrified.

Gaz, on the other hand, sheathed her daggers, and took a few silent steps toward the Mirror. She placed her hands delicately on either side. The glass showed no reflection of hers… the Talisman was otherwise preoccupied, able to fulfill only one command at a time. Trembling, my sister leaned up against the glass, and said, her voice steady and moral, "Stay strong."

It was better this way… that Zim would finish the fight against himself.

But that was not to say that the Commander had had wholly unrealistic targets. Dad was probably in trouble by now; the Brains obviously had it out for him. Tak was sure to snap out of her daze any second.

Plus…

"That is not to say that the two of you aren't liabilities as well."

Gaz stepped away from the Mirror when Gerohnod spoke. Slowly, she made her way over to me. When we stood side by side, I could hear her heart beating just as rapidly as mine.

"Prophecies are sooth in some respects," Gerohnod continued, "but We can yet have our say against them."

"Bring it on," I challenged him. "One down, three to go. Let's keep going."

"We aren't afraid of you," my sister added.

And no matter how the Brains, the machines, the SIR units and grudges from the past would try to convince us that we should be, the two of us had moved beyond fear. We were not here to conquer. We were here to mend.

The universe can be seen from several forms of consciousness. But only if one has a consciousness to call their own. Maybe understanding that was all part of having a soul.

I couldn't understand why the Irkens would ever relinquish that to the machines.

Change is a scary thing. Fear can cause change, and be derived from it. It's a cycle, and nobody's really averse to it. That's where flaws come from, but flaws… flaws are what make things interesting. Hate is flawed, trust is flawed, love is flawed. The universe knows that. And it's beautiful.

No, we were not going to conquer the Irken race.

All I wanted to do was share knowledge. Open doors. Embrace the changes that were bound to come, in whatever way I could. We needed to fight, and we needed to reason.

The only thing that needed to be conquered was fear. And each and every one of us were well on our way.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Hi! So sorry about the delay… and after a hiatus, too! ^^;; Thank you for your patience with my crazy schedule. Between parts 3 and 4, I needed to take a long break, in the interest of having a rest but also because my schedule is kind of insane (I have to travel a lot), and I wanted to prepare part 4 in the event that that would happen again. Well—it happened again. XD So, sorry for the delay, but I do want to warn that more delays might happen in the coming weeks, or I might switch to an every-other week schedule (I did that with the other fic series I regularly update too).

Anyway, I'm getting ranty… ^^;;;; I just like being able to provide a reason for delays and hiatuses (hiati?); and again, if things ever do get pushed back, I'll keep my profile updated!

I like Dib as a narrator; he's fun to write. (The original version of this chapter actually swapped back and forth between Dib and Gaz, and I wanted to switch it into just one voice.) It's been fun to revisit this thing I'd written such a long time ago, even if it does feel kinda weird to be close to the end again… (Ack!) Thank you so, so much for reading! It means a lot~ ^^ As always, more answers are on the way! Still only about 1/3 of the way through Part 4 (I'm excited to get the other characters back in…!)… :3

If all goes as planned, I'll see you next **Friday, August 31****st****!** But I'll be sure to update my profile by Wednesday if that needs to change due to travel craziness. :3 In any event, many thanks for reading, and see you soon~!

~Jizena

– – –


	10. The Mirror 3, or Fragment 3: Fear

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

I could remember, once, hearing the term 'a charmed life.' Something coming out of some television program or another, probably… but words that stuck with me all the same. When I'd first heard the phrase, I thought nothing of it. It made no sense to me, but it lingered in the recesses of my brain. _Charmed life._ Someone fated to succeed, someone constantly graced with predestined good fortune.

Now, I had only known of charmed _objects_ before that. The Talismans certainly were. Items imbued with inconceivable power, given to a select few in order to keep the Control Brains safe from attack. The Cabochon—a gem that could grant its wearer strength equal to that of the Brains; broken, the Brains could not grant extra abilities to living Irkens anymore, and one chamber could be breached.

Then there was the Elite Blade, _Osdraken—_the only weapon among them. It sought out death. It existed to conquer. Anyone wielding it would believe himself to be one within that _charmed life_ category, to be sure. If it were to break, the Brains would be weakened, with a second breach. Broken, it proved that the Empire itself could collapse, unless it opened itself to change.

Finally, the Mirror. It reflected the true nature of anyone who was able to look into the glass, and it gathered truth and knowledge from all points of the universe to which it traveled. It was a portal through dimensions, and a record of events past. In a way, it was the greatest judge of a person's character the universe could offer. It did not decide anything on its own… it merely absorbed and reflected. Broken… broken, I had come to realize, it would give back what it had absorbed. Every truth it contained would be known; everyone who had been granted a reflection in that charmed glass would know why the Mirror had shown that one particular image. Broken, the Brains would truly begin to lose all influence they had.

If the Mirror broke, and the Brains lost influence, PAKs could very well override, and allow the flow of layered emotions.

Supposedly, there was a fourth Talisman. What it was, and where we could find it, remained a mystery, but its existence had to be plausible. One Talisman to protect each of the Control Brain centers… there had to be a fourth.

And whatever it was, I felt that I now had the means to connect it to the others. While being half-aware, soaking in my own scattered memories while the Commander roamed the physical world, I'd had the time to think. I wanted to move, to take action, but while that was impossible, I still put myself to use.

One thing seemed to tie all of the Talismans together. One basic feeling ruled over the Cabochon, the Mirror, and the Elite Blade, and would have some connection to the fourth. It was one of the only things, I was convinced, programmed into the Control Brains, and it remained their driving fuel, remained the one thing that every Irken—and every human, for that matter—had in common, no matter how it manifested.

Obsession.

It can be negative, or positive. It can lead to great things, but just as easily lead to a downfall. There was an obsession underlying the functionality of the Irken race, and that was the innate need to expand, to conquer… and over time, the reasons for that had been bred out of all Irkens' central consciousness, and lived on in the actions the Brains took; the actions they forced the Tallest to take, the actions they forced upon the Elite and the Invaders.

An obsession, I had learned, was a want for something. A fixation. Something a person could devote oneself to. It drove one to act and react in certain ways, depending on what that particular obsession was.

I was pretty sure it had nearly driven the Commander crazy. It had certainly driven him over the edge. He did not know what his true intentions were, or what the end result would be. He knew only what he _wanted_.

And I found it. Deep inside his mind, I found it.

He shared an obsession with the Brains: power—conquest. Being the absolute best. But only because of his real fixation. Miyuki. Every action of his could be traced back to her.

Including the reason why he had possession of a Talisman, and why he hung around hers with such a keen eye.

The blade had found its way to me, long ago, and I had used it to become the Elite Commander. I was, as an Original, not the Brains' first choice of someone to be trusted with a Talisman—this I had to believe—and so they monitored me. The Government-Issued Recon unit that had been assigned to me was not a gift. He was a spy camera. He kept tabs on me, recording my life, my exploits, my conquests. He kept me in check. But as Commander, I had seen him only as another weapon, because my scope was narrow. When I was not in contact with _Osdraken,_ GIR, then, had also lost several of his functions; I had to hope that, once this was over, I could get that little robot back, the way he'd been. If there were no Brains for me to be a threat against, he could yet again be re-configured.

And as for the memories stored in my PAK…

Well, don't we all wish that we could undo certain points in our past?

We can't.

Oddly enough, hearing Tak voice her recognition of that fact had helped my own mind re-awaken, within the thick, murky, dark denial that was the Commander's consciousness. Tak had stolen two of Miyuki's prototype machines, one of them with the ability to warp time. Her problem, though, was her desire to both fast forward and undo. She could not have both. In truth, she could not have either. Time moves as it must. Fast or slow, we are still driven by our own actions, and no amount of tampering with space and time can change that. No time-altering machine can change who we are, or what decisions we make.

Because, in the end, we all have to move on. We change ourselves.

Bad judgments will happen. Foibles and follies will occur; we will love, and we will lose, and we will break and we will rebuild.

That's what makes us—

"You have some nerve, human," the Commander snarled at me, the moment I had drawn him back into the Mirror.

I had been waiting in there too long already. It was a horrible feeling. I had both a separate consciousness, alive as if with a body inside the dimension that existed within the Mirror's glass, and also found myself attached to the physical body that the Commander had taken control over. He had passed through the Mirror a few times merely to taunt me, to make sure that I was watching, when he wanted me to. To exploit its power and his own physical free will, to prove that he could have anything he wanted.

All he was proving to me, though, was his juvenile approach to the world around him. His selfishness. His burning urge to be the best.

It was almost sad, and yet at the same time nowhere near that.

"Interesting thing to say to your own reflection," I shot back at him.

"Mind your words," the Commander snapped. "Let's settle this, human." Grinning, he added, "Did you enjoy the show? That girl was terrified, you know. Of a piece of you. What do you say to that?"

"I'd say she had every right," I said, steadying myself. "Gaz is a strong person, and I love her for that. But there are things we've done, Commander, that are bound to frighten her. Here's a secret about her, though: she's going to get over it."

An opening.  
"She's even stronger than you that way."

The Commander's eyes flared wide open, and he rushed at me, grabbing me around the neck. He shoved his thumbs in toward my veins as if to pop them, but I jabbed upward with my knee right into his stomach, and he eased his grip enough for me to gather up my strength and flip him off of me.

He stayed on his feet and spun to face me again, only to throw a right hook that caught me off my guard. I ducked underneath his next attack, and managed to scoot out of the way just as he was striking out at me with that dagger charm of his.

"Stand still!" he laughed. "How's this for a bargain this time? I won't kill her with my own two hands. I'll watch her die of grief when you don't return."

I rushed at him, and threw a punch of my own. He grabbed my fist and tried to snap it backwards, but I bit his forearm and wrestled myself out of his grip. He backhanded me and cut across my lower left arm with his dagger; the wound opened up under my uniform jacket, and appeared prominently on his own forearm.

"What's the point?!" I hollered at him. "There is no point! What you are doing is senseless, you know that?! Why resort to taunting me with threats?!"

"It is all to conquer. All to attain."

"That's not all there is to life and you _know it!"_ I argued.

"Show me your fear, human!" the Commander bellowed. "It's better if you do! Stop subjecting yourself to such weakness. It's unbecoming. You have nothing, you understand? You have no influence. No authority. I have it all. I am all that you fear. _I am the Empire."_

"Shut up," I snapped. "That's not enough to convince me anymore."I stared the Commander down. Fear can make us lose sight of simple, moral things. Fear can make us forget. And Fear had blinded me. Challenged me and temporarily won. But in every human life, there is margin for error.

When I was the Elite Commander, I had made a mistake. I thought that the universe was mine.

When I was an Invader, I had made the same mistake again. And over, and over.

One does not need everything. One cannot have everything. Fear makes us believe that there is so much to be attained beyond what is within our very immediate grasp.

All I really wanted and needed was someone to understand. Someone to make _me_ understand. To hold me away from the lust for power that had made me weak and stupid, and allow me to know that there was much more I was capable of.

I'm an Original.

You know what? Everyone is.

The Commander had been playing into the fear instilled in all Irkens by the Control Brains, all along. The 'game' that both he and Tak spoke of, the thing that absolutely had to be won, was nothing. It was a quest for a goal that could not be reached. A goal that killed Originality along the way.

_I am Zim,_ I used to proclaim to everyone who came across me. _I am Zim, Zim is me, Zim shall rule, I am amazing, all bow down to Zim._ Dammit. No.

I didn't want the whole fucking universe. That was unobtainable. That was ridiculous.

I just wanted to be heard.

It was kind of sad, really… but for fuck's sake, I had to be my own second chance.

I'll make more mistakes. I know I will. But this time I'll accept the fact that I can lose. I'll learn from my failures. I'll laugh at them. Mourn them. Wish they'd never been. But there was still one thing that tied me to my past; one thing that always will:

My stubborn want to do better.

That's what makes us Irken. That's what makes us human.

That's what makes us alive.

And not machines.

"Finally going to hear me out?" the Commander grinned, when I had gone silent.

Solid in my resolve, I answered, "No. I need you to listen to me."

"I'm through listening to you. You've nothing interesting to say."

That was not about to sway me. This was my fight now. "Repeat after me, Commander," I said firmly. "I am not the Empire."

"Fuck off."

"I am not the Empire."

"I am."

"I am not the Empire."

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING HUMAN MOUTH."

"Repeat after me, Commander."

_"SHUT UP!"_

"I am not the Empire." I grinned, and held my arms out. "I am Zim."

"You're a human," the Commander growled.

"Yes." My heart skipped a beat; my chest surged.

"You're a _failure."_

"Yes, I'm that, too."

"You disgust me."

"Likewise! Now," I laughed, "if we're done talking about stupid things…"

"You _dare_ call _me STUPID?"_

I couldn't help it. I just kept on laughing.

This, as I should have expected, set the Commander over the edge. He let out an agitated roar, pulled his sword off of his back, and swung it out at me. I hit the ground—my only defense at the moment—then rocked back onto my heels only to push forward again, tackling him around the legs. As soon as we both fell, he kicked me off and shoved _Osdraken_ forward, aiming to cut off my left arm.

I rolled to the side, just in time to grab out my own weapons, from where I had them sheathed on my belt, and managed to spin and go for a cut. My aim was slightly off, and I hit only his shoulder armor. He was quick to punch me in the gut with his left hand, then use the full force of that arm for an uppercut.

My jaw smacked together and I thought my teeth would grind themselves down, the force was so strong. Colors flashed in front of my eyes as my head spun from the hit, but I managed to shake my head and get my wits about me in time to see the Commander raising his sword over his head to come down at me again.

I punched him in the trachea, and he coughed, sputtered, and stumbled back, nearly losing his grip on his sword. While he was recovering, I took a moment to breathe as well, and studied the scar across his chest.

It burned red. His skin was far from flawless… he showed every sign of decay that I felt, and while I could not sense it spreading on my own body, his began to seemingly speed up. Burned, roughened scabs and scars appeared across his arms, near the veins of his neck, along his shoulders, and creeping around his torso—

But the scar was singled out. As if it was waiting for a heartbeat to sound from that chest again.

He winced only once, then shook himself of his momentary weakness, and lunged at me once more.

Strike after strike, I forced myself to counter. He forced me back several steps, but there was nowhere he could lead me that would give him an advantage. We were in the space between every dimension the Mirror could touch—and that covered every piece of the universe that had a truth to be told about it. The Mirror saw everything, and we were in the middle of it all. Where there was no high or low ground. There were no drops, no cliffs, no liquids, no solids.

Here there was no ice, no fire, no weather and no wind. With no distractions, this was a place for discovery, and not even the Commander could run from that.

Here in the Mirror, we would learn who we were; accept what we were.

And move on.

"You wretched human!" the Commander hollered as he struck out. As I dodged. As I countered. As I finally gained my advantage over him. "Die! You'll be the first, before I annihilate that race."

"No can do," I said, keeping my tone simple. "The Invasion is over. Your time is over. You can't destroy what you yourself are so connected to."

"I DESPISE THE HUMANS," the Commander snarled. He struck out again, only to wince back, and clutch at the wound on his upper right arm.

I felt a pang there, as well, felt it open up, damaged from his own form of decay, reminding me that I had not won yet.

The Commander swung his sword down at me again, but I managed to cross my blades over my head and stop the strike. "DIE!" he shouted at me again. "You disgust me! You allied yourself with that race that stole Miyuki. That stole our chances of gaining everything for the Empire. Why give up your potential to have everything in the Empire's reaches for a life so short and insignificant?! _WHY HAVE YOU GIVEN UP?"_

With a heavy breath, I shoved him away, and took a few steps back. "I didn't give up," I corrected him. "I woke up. I grew up. I'm done with you."

"You're an idiot."

I simply shook my head. "You must just be really, really lonely," I said. "All you have are words."

"I have an army." The Elite he didn't even trust? Interesting.

"You _had_ a gathering," I corrected. "A gathering of those you collected yourself. Originals, even. Because it was a challenge to sway them. But you have nothing. Nothing. Threats, that's it. Your 'army' would easily rise up against you if they knew more about you."

"They fear me."

"Exactly. But that's empty."

"I am empty."

"You weren't always. You had someone. And you lost her."

When he struck at me again, his attempt was only half-hearted. I could see him slipping. The pits under his eyes looked awful. He needed to rest. Once and for all.

"Loss is weakness," the Commander muttered, as if trying to convince himself that such a simple method of thought was still his best defense. "You feel too greatly. You let yourself love, and you think that's the answer to everything? It isn't!"

"Neither are your ways," I spat back.

"You are weakened by sympathy!" the Commander shouted. "You will lose your potential if you become human, but you, oh, you are fighter! You know that's true. Sympathy will end you. I have no need of compassion, and neither should you!"

"Pardon me for enjoying having a conscience!" I fought him, still at the ready in case he decided to strike again. "For enjoying knowing right from wrong, for learning from my mistakes, for wanting to make things better. I benefit from those things, but you run from them. All you have, Commander, are stories you've told yourself to make yourself great. You know what you really are? You're a coward."

"Never! I—"

"You're a _coward,"_ I repeated, striking out at him. When my blade slit its way across his shoulder, this time I felt no repercussion. "You gave up a long time ago. You erased your memories so your grudge could live, and that, Commander, is weakness. You know what that is? That's fear. Maybe you pride yourself with instilling fear in others because you just _happen_ to have that thirst for blood—"

"There's nothing else," he growled.

"Yes. There is."

I stormed up to him, grabbed him by the neck, and thrust my right blade through his chest after spinning it out to its full length.

"We're human," I proclaimed. "We always have been. Everyone fears what they don't understand. Human or not, I'm pretty sure that's universal."

Staring forward at nothing, the Commander answered, "Everyone fears death."

"I know."

I pulled out my blade and let it, and my other weapon, fall aside. As I heard _Osdraken_ fall to the ground as well, blood seeped from the Commander's open wound, where I had ripped into the scar already crossing his chest. The scars on his back, too, opened, and out of that spot shot the wires of his PAK. All the while, I felt my own body recover the strength I had previously lost. My back felt healed. My skin felt less fractured.

But he was still alive.

"Why?" the Commander asked me, his eyes meeting mine.

"Why try to destroy you?" I guessed.

His voice came out much more raw, but he still forced it through, as he kept himself standing. "Why do you want to be human? For _her?_ How petty."

I punched him across the face, and my knuckles stung from the contact. "I want to be human because I'm finally ready to stop lying to myself," I said, feeling my eyes mist up as I spoke. I punched the Commander again, with my other hand. "I want to be human so that the ability I was lucky enough to be granted at birth will have some use in the world. So I can be open to new things. And yes," I breathed out, choking somewhat. "I want to be with her. Her name, by the way, is Gaz—use it, because I love her, right down to her name. Because she has helped me learn so much about things I never knew could be so beautiful. And because I want to protect all that she is, and hope that I can have some influence on whatever gives her life meaning, just as she's done for me."

"Foolish thoughts of a disgusting, emotion-filled mind," the Commander coughed out. "You've gone soft."

"Well, all right, fine! Why did you become Commander?" I shouted. Turnabout was fair play, after all. And as long as he was still standing, I knew that there was still more that I had to do to talk him down. "Why did you go on all those slaughtering rampages? _Why?"_

"To conquer. That is my purpose."

"For _whom?"_

His silence was answer enough.

I felt my hands clench into fists, and I tried to avert my eyes from the heavy bloodflow that he was trying to stop up with his own two hands. "Why did you do those things?" I demanded. "What was your driving purpose?"

"To win. To control."

Bullshit. Angered beyond the point of reasoning for a moment, I shoved him back. The bastard managed to stay on his feet, and he stared me down, inviting me to go on with my next move. I glared at the gaping wound I'd carved into his chest. At the blood that soaked the laceration only on his body, not mine. At the wires on his back that threatened his life. "Something was still beating, you know," I realized. "You didn't have to prove yourself. You didn't have to take that path. But you did." Drawing in a deep breath, I finished, "Because you were scared."

The Commander spat blood onto the ground. "Amusing," he muttered. "Scared of what?"

"…Me."

He wasn't letting me reach that memory. There were several things he still tried to suppress. But they were there. Memories of the day Miyuki had shown me the Mirror, prior to her becoming the Tallest… back when we were partners in the weapons trade, when I was simply glad to have someone around who understood what it was like to be Original, to have thoughts and emotions outside of the regulation of the Control Brains. She had shown me the Mirror, and I had run upon seeing the reflection, not wanting to speak to her about it.

And we did not meet again until I had killed my way to the position of Commander, to be with her again. For all the wrong reasons.

I'd never stopped running.

Fearing myself.

…Not anymore.

"You saw me," I repeated for the Commander to hear. "You didn't understand, and you didn't want to. I get that. But you knew I'd be the result if—"

"It's _insulting!"_ the Commander cried, grabbing more tightly at his fresh wound, forcing himself to stay alive and standing. "A race like ours, tied to one so flawed as the humans? It makes me sick."

"Because you don't understand!" I insisted, wanting only to reason with him. "But you fell in love anyway. Right? You fell in love with _her._ You loved _her,_ but she had hurt you, and you didn't want to cope with that. Right after you saw your reflection, she became the Tallest, and—

_"And how else was I supposed to approach her after that?!"_ the Commander roared. He instantly bit back his words, and moved to attack. He raised his right hand to use the dagger charm around that wrist, then stumbled, and clutched his chest again. "I had to find her. Hers was the only logic I knew. I'd follow her anywhere, so I did.

"We were told that our goal was the universe. The more vast the Empire, the greater our status. The greater our reach of control. So I conquered. One puny planet, one resourceless race at a time. It was what she needed. It gave me a purpose."

I… honestly, more or less knew what he was getting at. He thought that not fulfilling that purpose meant that he wouldn't be good enough. For her.

Noble in intention, morally wrong in execution.

I wasn't going to live my life like that. Because being human means striving for tomorrow while still being open to whatever that might bring. It was terrifying, and exciting, and healing and painful all at once.

"And that," the Commander finished, painfully moving his left hand, now, to grab at my neck, "is what I still intend to do. She deserves my service. I deserve what I have conquered."

"But you lost her," I said to the Commander, "even before the day you showed me, on Station Nine. Station Nine was just the end of it. I know, you couldn't live with yourself, thinking you'd killed her, but you were already so fixated on what you wanted that you never once in your service as Commander made the attempt to really talk to her again. Did you? You couldn't stand to think that she'd moved on, so you didn't even once boil your issues down to a simple question.

"Love isn't the same as a conquest, Commander," I went on, my tone softening as I spoke. "She rejected you, and because you didn't understand, you couldn't let it go."

"Miyuki—"

"You lost her. All right? You lost her." My eyes began to sting, and I pushed the Commander back, so that I held him up by the shoulders. For the first time, I saw his eyes begin to wander aimlessly. "It's okay to lose. It's okay to fail. If we didn't, there'd be nothing else to live for."

He did not argue with me. He did not say anything.

"You lost Miyuki, and she found someone else." I shook my head, and let go, allowing him to fall. "But you ran away," I went on, my stomach churning as I watched the wires snake about before, one by one, they lost drive and fell. "You ran away, and I'm not going to make that mistake again. Fear can make us take backward steps, Commander, fear can turn us into monsters. But I'm not afraid of you anymore, and I'm not going to let you stop me from finally being happy."

From where it lay, _Osdraken_ shattered.

"There," I said as I caught my breath. "Was that vital enough for you?"

The Commander did not answer. He had lost his ability to speak, for what's past, as even Tak herself recognized, has passed. His time was long since over, and I had overcome my fear of losing myself to his one-track obsessions. I feared stagnancy, monotony, lacking a conscience.

These fears were irrational, so long as I knew how to overcome them.

I feared change. But everyone does.

I feared death. But not the life I wanted to live before that final moment came.

I accepted my past for what it was. I had been the product of an emotionless Empire, burdened with the ability to feel, and the want to prove myself greater than the others while still staying within the confines of that rigid society. I had glossed over my failures.

I had not allowed myself to be a person.

Now, however, there was no need for the machine.

That was all the Commander truly was—memories caught inside my PAK, memories that could not die, a grudge that could never be satisfied. And so the PAK began to eat his body away, since none was truly needed. The wires woke up again, long enough to snake around the body my past reflection had managed to assume, until every inch of flesh had been engulfed. Twisting and sparking, the wires from the PAK began to coil around themselves at a terrifying speed, and I cringed back when I heard them snapping, crunching, re-forming… only for them to form the outer PAK shell, which then dimmed, and began to shut down.

Nothing but the PAK remained. The PAK, and pieces and pieces of shattered, precious Tavis, which once had formed a blade so powerful it could destroy from the inside out. I felt weak on my knees, drained of a fair amount of energy from both my own battles and his, and as I continued to breathe, I slowly removed my uniform jacket, and laid it over the dimmed, dead PAK.

Carefully, I scooped it up into the jacket, old life cradled in new—I had to keep it with me, and wait until I had crossed the Mirror's threshold before I destroyed it completely. After all, there was still one component left to my soul, and I was not about to give myself only ten minutes to prove it. Because love takes time.

Life takes time.

And it all moves forward.

Because of that, as I held gingerly to the bundle containing the final reminder of my vast, sad, malicious, loveless Irken past, I bowed my head, and said the words the Commander had been too afraid to say; too stubborn, too conceited to say.

"I'm sorry, Miyuki. I could have done better. Not for me, but for you. I should have supported you, rather than made so many assumptions. I'm sorry. But I'm glad you moved on, and I plan to do the same thing."

Fear had held me down too long.

I had one goal to accomplish, and from there, I'd simply see where life led me. I'd do what needed to be done. I'd ask questions, I'd listen, and more than anything, I'd just try. Not force anymore, but try.

I stood, and began to walk back toward the Mirror's glass, leaving the shattered weapon behind me.

Before it opened as a portal, the Mirror granted me a look at my reflection. I smiled when all I saw was me.

I do not have a 'charmed life.' I never did. All I had was a truth that the Mirror once reflected, and now was becoming more and more real, as I began to piece together the life that I wanted to lead. The Mirror had told me where I was going. It had been my job to not get lost on my way there.

Eventually, I had found it. And I was so close to gathering up the final piece.

_I am not the Empire. I am not the Commander. I am Zim._

_ And I am nearly human._

Keeping a firm hold on the jacket containing my now-dislodged PAK, I took in a breath, relying on nothing but my own lungs, felt my pulse rush with nothing but a beat of my own heart, and touched my right hand to the Mirror's surface, so that it could lead me back to Devastis for the last time.

I stepped through, proud to have my feet on solid ground again, proud to have my wits about me, memories and all. When I had adjusted to the pale light of a reddish-grey corridor, I let my feet carry me forward.

I still had a promise to keep. And I let myself grin, since I knew, now, that keeping it was possible.

Now that I had conquered my greatest Fear.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Eep, slightly late again, sorry about that! (I totally should have just posted this yesterday, oops…!) But, we're at the end of an arc, here~ :3 Next, on to more with Tak, the others, and, of course, the battles against the Brains… ^^

Another note: due to my maddening work schedule, I'm going to be taking a break next week. Thank you all so, so much for reading! I'm getting excited to bring on the rest of this story (about another two-thirds of this part to go~) ^^

Chapter 11 will be posted on **Friday, September 17****th****!** See you then~~! :3

~Jizena

– – –


	11. Devastis 5: Second Conquest

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Gaz's Records_

When Zim hauled his darker half through the Mirror, I knew that he, that Zim, would be back. I did not wish, I did not hope. I knew.

So I kissed the glass, wished him strength, and turned my attention on the real problems in the room: Gerohnod, the robot—the… _thing…_ that I believed was truly causing Zim, in any of his titles, in all spheres of his life, such terrible pain, and Tak. Tak, who looked strangely lost, forsaken, confused—afraid, even. I glanced over at my brother, who still seemed to be catching his brain up in the Commander's wake. Dib was holding himself together well, but he was not at all hiding just how badly he wanted to get out of that room and head toward the place the fight would lead us next.

The next one to move was Tak. She gathered herself, planting her feet directly under her shoulders. Glaring at Gerohnod, she flickered a few times between her true Irken form and her hologram… the hologram eventually won out; she narrowed her eyes, which flashed as she set her gaze directly on me.

"The two of you," she said unevenly as she drew a laser gun from her boot, "need to leave."

"Tak," Dib began, his voice bearing all the steadiness that hers lacked, "we can be civil about this."

"No!" she cried. "This fucking Prophecy is going to destroy our Empire, and you have just torn down one of the few of our soldiers who might have been able to save us!"

"Save?" I mocked her. "Your Commander didn't want anything to do with _saving_ anything. You need to stop tampering and let time run its course the way it's supposed to."

"I won't live under humans!" Tak screamed. "I refuse! You," she said, pointing her gun at Dib, "had potential once to choose the better half of your fate, but no, you're against us, even if you claim you're here to set things right. And you," she spat out, pointing the gun back at me, "have been in my way since day one. Your resemblance to Tallest Miyuki is the only thing Zim sees in you, you know! He'd have murdered you if that weren't true!"

That did it. She was not talking sense, and there was no getting through to her. I ran at her, daggers drawn—dodged a laser blast when she fired, and swiped my left hand upward with the intent to cut through her chest. Tak slipped away from my attack with the agility of a cat, and swung at me, fingers bent so that she could bare her nails like claws. I caught her wrist and shoved her aside, but she rebounded quickly and threw me into the nearest doorway.

I choked on my breath and could barely register where I was for a moment. I noticed Tak's next proposed strike just in time—rather than try to block it, I simply went for a strike again first, punching her across the face. Disorienting her threw off the accuracy of her own fist, and she ended up driving it into the wall, giving me a moment to slip back and away from her.

At that moment, I saw a shadow move in the hallway behind us, but I must have given the discovery away, since Tak caught onto whatever sudden movement my peering eyes had made. Something shot through the air at Tak's neck, but she swerved to the side, taking a swipe at me as she did. I couldn't call out to my brother, but he'd seen it, too: he grabbed the object—an arrow—as it flew by, spun it to point out the sharp tip, and jabbed it into Tak's side.

She screamed and tripped forward. Though getting weaker on her feet by the minute, she rammed into Dib and took him down with her, wrestling the sword out of his hand. She tossed it aside, grabbed out her gun and charged its laser. Her eyes were wide and wild as she held the barrel to Dib's head. "You disgusting human trash!" she cried out. Her hands shook on the trigger. I shook where I stood. "You're ruining _everything!"_

The figure from the hall darted forward and I nearly laughed from relief of my nerves when she whacked Tak over the head with her crossbow and kicked her off to Dib's side. Tak let out a frustrated yowl, and as I then managed to help Dib to his feet, Lex slammed her right foot down on Tak's neck, loaded an arrow to her crossbow, cocked the weapon, and said harshly, "That 'trash' is my boyfriend, and I'll thank you to stop trying to kill everyone I love!"

"Proclaims little miss _nothing,"_ Tak spat up at her. "You are just a human who has no place in this Prophecy."

"I don't care about Prophecies!" Lex shouted. "I just want this whole tyrannous enterprise to stop and get back to my _own damned research!"_ She kicked Tak in the face, causing our long-standing enemy to cry out yet again. "That's from my dad!" Trembling, she held up her crossbow again, and said on a much less even tone, "Actually no… _this_ is."

"Lex, get down!" Dib yelled, causing me to start.

I hadn't even noticed anything else amiss until a laser fired. Dib pulled me out of the way, and grabbed his girlfriend at the same time. The sudden jerk of a movement caused Lex to fire off the crossbow, but the now freed Tak scrambled out of its path so that it merely grazed her shoulder, rather than gouge out her eye, which had seemed Lex's original aim. "Dib, what?" Lex and I demanded at the same time.

I'd forgotten about Gerohnod. Still in cyborgean form, there he stood at the center of the room, the center of his right hand glowing from the after-blast of the recently fired light blue laser.

"You!" Tak hollered over at him. She did not seem impressed, nor was she stunned, nor grateful—no, far, far from grateful.

Rage erupted from somewhere within Tak. I could see every moment of it, as if tracking an unstoppable earthquake or flood. Tak had the fury of a tempest, and I knew that there was no calming her.

But, if such a thing could throw off the Commander, such a thing could throw off Tak. The Irkens who had that 'Original' quality were indeed interesting… I think all of them were a lot more human than they cared to admit.

Because if I had to guess, I would honestly say that Tak was scared. Scared right out of her mind. She was too afraid to move forward in the way that this supposed 'Prophecy' stated, and yet she acknowledged that change needed to happen: hence her awful infatuation with her Commander coming into play, wanting to move forward the way the Empire may once have been able to… toward more and more conquest.

That, however, would ultimately lead to nothing, and I had the feeling that Tak knew that. Irkens are very selective in what they choose to believe. And I know that was the Brains' fault. No one in that society had ever really had a choice of their own, and a good part of me wondered how Tak might behave differently now if she'd not let her grudges rule her choices throughout her life.

She had too much hatred and regret inside her now to have much chance to try changing, even if she wanted to. Hatred, regret, and, yes—fear. And a bitterness, an ugly loathing, that showed itself when she turned her gun on Gerohnod, fired a laser, then bolted at him at her current top speed the second it hit. "Why would you destroy her?!" Tak screamed as she struck him twice.

The modified cyborg gave no answer. He simply took her hits, unfazed.

"I built her to be greater than you, you know!" Tak continued. "I built her from the same matter that made you!"

"She wasn't good enough," answered Gerohnod, grimly. "You ripped out a piece from one of our cores to finish her, didn't you? That wasn't very smart."

"Wait, what's going on?" Lex asked, grabbing Dib by one arm and me by the other, pulling us back away from the fray.

"That thing's kinda GIR," Dib explained.

"No. Honestly?"

"Yeah, and he killed MiMi," I added.

"That's—rather strange… but good in a way… maybe?" Lex checked with us.

"Good she's gone, bad he's here," said Dib. After a beat, "If not worse."

"Ah, figured. Listen, we should leave. Red found—"

She cut herself off with a yelp and yanked us both down when another laser was fired. I picked my head up again to see what had happened: Tak, struggling against the Commander's own right hand, so to speak, was slipping still, and managed to lose her drive long enough for Gerohnod to fire his next laser directly into her gut, then toss her against the far wall.

Tak collided with the cold, harsh metal and fell to the ground, flickering instantly out of hologram. Her PAK's light dimmed, and her eyes seemed pried half open; she did not move.

My heart started racing as I gripped my daggers and righted my position, but Gerohnod was done. He stared at the three of us still standing, and turned to leave. The last words he called back to us were, "Unless you break the Blade, you'll never kill Us."

"Get back here!" my brother shouted. "Are you on the Brains' side or what? Are you saying we need to fight you? _What?"_

But the robot switched off his hologram, and disappeared through the hallway. I heard the sound of blasts from four distinct sources a few seconds later, and as my brother and I prepared for a breach on the room by any possible Irken soldiers, Lex halted us, saying, "We've got backup."

That's right—she'd been in good company with Tenn, my dad, and Ira. I was glad to know that even if Zim was still undergoing his struggle in that very room, we would not have had to face the Commander alone much longer. I did glance over at Tak, afraid for what might happen when she got back up. If she got back up.

GIR seemed to be done with us for a while, but I knew we couldn't avoid a fight against him for long. We were here on Devastis to defeat the Control Brains. Find them, end them, and move on.

We still had to rely on Zim for a part of that, though: break the Blade. _Osdraken_ was one of the Talismans guarding the Control Brain chambers. If that broke, we could push past GIR and leave Devastis without its reigning Brain control.

Hold onto hope. Stay strong…

The laser fire died down, and footsteps rushed our way—I couldn't count the sets, but they were with us in no time: my father, Tenn, and, rather to my surprise, Skutch. I glanced around for Ira, and Red while I thought of it, but was just coming down off of my skittishness from the recent fights, and distracted by the first words out of my father's mouth: "Are you kids all right?"

He looked like he'd been getting into a fair amount of skirmishes himself—as did the others, now that I could have a good look—but he seemed ready and willing to go to any lengths necessary to give me and my brother a little bit of a rest. Which I could not thank him for enough.

"We're, uh… we'll be fine," Dib chose to answer. While Lex took the time to look him over, taking it upon herself to clean up the open cuts the Commander had managed to get in on my brother's face, Dad walked right up to me, and set his hands on my shoulders.

"Gaz," Dad said, looking me over, "what happened? I heard a little from Skutch, but are you all right? Be honest with me, now."

Well, I hadn't been giving myself much time to examine how I really felt, now that he'd prompted me. _Was_ I all right? I mean, a piece of Zim's past had just been attacking me. Us. Saying terrible things about our family and about the human race, threatening deaths both quick and slow.

But I forgave him.

Because I wasn't a machine. I forgave him because I knew that he was stronger, that I was stronger, that we believed in each other, and that just as he trusted me to find my way, I trusted him to find his.

Zim had not hurt me, not wholly. A restless and unfounded grudge had caused me physical and emotional pain, and Zim had hurt me vicariously—mostly, it had yanked at my heart and tried to shatter me. I'd stood up to him, though. He was my friend, whether his past could deal with that or not. More than a friend, even.

So had he hurt me? A little, yes, sure. Would I come out of it all right? Of course I would. Love isn't all pure and precious. I don't think I'd be able to stand it if it was.

"Yeah, Dad," I sighed, letting him hug me. "I'm fine, I'm gonna be fine. How about you? You guys find anything? Where's Ira?"

Still holding onto me, Dad explained, "All of us managed to find each other. Skutch told us about his brief fight with Tak, and Red had suffered a pretty bad blow, but—"

"Shit! Is he okay?" I wondered, pulling back. And at the same time I did wonder how the hell I'd come to be concerned about that jerk… but he really was pulling through.

"He's fine," Dad assured me. "But we broke off again; Ira went with him, Skutch and Tenn led me and Lex here."

"Yup." I turned when Tenn spoke up. Lex, I noticed, had done a pretty good job cleaning up Dib's cuts and scrapes, but both of them seemed a little concerned that they'd scar. A thought seemed to spark in Dib after a second, though, and he held his right hand over one of the dagger cuts; after another second, his palm glowed white with energy from the air, and the scar began to diminish. I had to send those Meekrob a thank-you card or something for teaching him that stuff. Seriously.

"So what's the plan now?" I asked, primarily of Tenn.

"Well, after breaking up," she said, "Red brought Ira to where the Brains are, and he sent me coordinates." Tenn held up her left wrist, around which she wore her communicator watch. "We've basically gotta move up," she added, nodding to the ceiling. "I don't know this part of Devastis as well, but go figure… this was for the higher Elite and the Advisors who went straight to the Brains for work."

"Is that why Miyuki stashed her inventions around here?" Dib wondered aloud.

"Wouldn't doubt it," said Skutch. He winced a smile over at me, and said, "Sorry about… y'know, by the way. I shouldn't've let him, uh—"

I waved it off. "It's okay," I told him. "Zim's back in the Mirror, now, anyway."

"Is he? Damn, that's… that's a good thing. That _is_ a good thing, yeah?" Skutch checked with both me and Dib.

"Oh, it's a _very_ good thing," I said, sighing a glance over at the Talisman. "GIR and Tak on the other hand…"

"Yeah, where is she?" Skutch wondered.

Dib and Lex simultaneously pointed over at where the Irken lay in a heap. Tenn's false blue eyes went wide at the sight, and Skutch looked like he wanted to laugh. "She's passed out," Lex noted, "or… something. And her fighting seemed rather…"

"Unstable," Dib finished. He lowered his hand to work on another cut; the one on his cheek he'd been working on had faded considerably after receiving Meekrob-based treatment. "So I wonder if that's why she got knocked out?"

Watching her steps, Tenn walked over to where Tak lay, and knealt over the deathlike body.

"Holy shit," Tenn diagnosed her. "She went into standby."

"Standby?" Dib repeated warily, casting a look over at me. We were feeling the same amount of confusion and worry at that point.

"Closest thing we can get to sleep," said Tenn, checking Tak over one more time. "It's a lockdown self-defense mechanism. A lot of Irkens can't come out of it once it sets in, since it'll usually happen during a battle, like this, and it's just basically to spare the information gathered in the PAK before the PAK and body get killed."

"We get two options like that," Skutch added. "Standby, and self-destruct. Depends on how the soldier wants to be remembered, I guess."

"That's really fucking awful," Lex commented, wrinkling her nose up.

"Agreed," I nodded. "This really is just a military society, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and kinda shitty now I've seen Meekrob and Earth," Tenn sighed. Standing, she stretched out her arms, and said, giving Dib and Skutch the bulk of her attention, "All right. What do we do with her? Anyone got cuffs?"

"Well, I mean, we probably shouldn't just leave her here," said Skutch, "but it'd suck just as much if we brought her with, right? Dead weight and everything."

Dib looked Tak over, as if expecting her to spring to life and attack us again at any second. When she didn't, Dib walked over to her, took every weapon off her body he could find, then flagged Skutch over. The two spoke in undertones about a possible plan for a brief moment, and then Dib stood back, while Skutch shifted his weapon into a _manriki,_ and tied Tak up with the chain. He gave himself two loops, then got her strapped to his back, for portability.

"This feels so fuckin' wrong," he muttered.

"So why're we bringing her, and where're we going?" I had to ask.

"To Red," Dib said, addressing us all. "I want the Tallest to make the call on her. As much as I hate her, I'd feel wrong killing her in this kind of state, especially if there's any way at all we can get some real information out of her. And I want her to face justice. We're setting precedents here. If we don't enact proper judgment, the things this Empire is hated for will just continue, and that's not the kind of leadership, that's not the kind of message the Irkens need."

_"Finally_ someone's doing something about the corruption," Tenn mentioned, grinning at my brother while Lex patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Come on," she added, turning on the locator program on her watch, "the Tallest are—is a couple floors up."

Tenn shook her head, processing what the new regime would be once Ira was back in his own world. I was sure Red was facing a lot of the same, and moreso. But from there being two Tallest Irkens to the handing out of missions, much of the current government thrived on lies. Now that the Brains were facing real danger, the truth was soon to come out. All of it? I wasn't sure.

We just had to start today.

"What about Zim?" I wondered, as Tenn began to lead us out. "What do we do?"

Dib paused to look over his shoulder, passing his gaze from me to the Mirror and back. On a sympathetic breath, he walked over to where I stood, and placed one hand on my back. "He'll make it, Gaz," Dib assured me.

"He will," I breathed out, confidently as I could.

"Yes." Dib hugged me into his side, and I returned it a bit, and then we were off, leaving the Mirror behind.

– – –

Skutch led the way, knowing the corridors like an old friend, and Tenn led with him, having the best eye and ear for when we were in possible danger. Skutch shifted uncomfortably under Tak's weight, and Lex followed directly behind him with her crossbow trained on the unconscious cargo… just in case. When we could, Dib and I took turns daring to fill our father in on the Commander's empty excuses. Naturally, Dad wasn't too pleased to hear that he was a primary target.

An hour of careful walking led us to a deep green hallway, the two Elite guards of which had both suffered recent fatal wounds. "One nicely broken neck," Dad noticed, "one gunshot to the forehead."

"Red isn't one for subtlety," Tenn grunted. "I've gotta say, though, leave it to a doctor to break a neck that well. Nice."

"I wouldn't compliment him on that," Dad advised.

Tenn merely shrugged, checked her watch coordinates, and flagged us forward.

About four hundred feet into the long, oddly claustrophobic hall, my brother's wristwatch chimed with a message. My heart stalled when I was struck with the sudden fear that the sound would echo and we'd be pretty fucked over, but the corridor worked to our advantage by muffling the sound rather than amplifying it.

"Dib?" Red's voice came through. He sounded exhausted.

"Yeah," my brother answered. Then, "We're on our way."

"Well, you might want to hurry. Me and Ira are in the—"

"Ira and I," Ira corrected.

"What the fucking shit ever. We're in the central cortex, I guess, of the Brain. I'm sending new coordinates." Dib's watch made another little chime. "Hurry up though, all right? Something just broke in, and we shouldn't investigate yet while we're all split up. This is gonna be group work."

"Thanks," Dib said, "and I'm pretty sure I know what just broke in. Or who. Or—yeah, whatever. We'll be there."

We did not have to travel far until we were reunited. I hugged Ira the moment I saw him, and as, once again, Dib started getting the new party caught up on what had happened to us and to Zim, I took the time to survey the surroundings.

We were, as far as I could tell, near to the surface; I swear I could still hear footsteps below. Red and Ira ha been stationed outside a large unpainted metal door, which spiked at the top as if to emulate the Irken Military symbol. A screen on the door fuzzed with black and white snow feedback. To either side, spires reached toward the ceilings like Tesla coils, a similarity my father noted with ripe enthusiasm.

"So it's GIR in there?" Red asked once all filled in. "You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Hmm. And, uh… Tak…"

"Yeah," said Dib, "about her." He shifted uncomfortably. "We want her to have a fair trial. Like, to be justly punished by her Tallest. We want you to make the call on, you know, whether she lives or dies."

The look Ira gave Red then was one of both pity and utter disgust. Red had made terrible calls before, but Tak's case was unique. She had committed acts beyond criminal, but justice was justice.

Red took in a deep breath. "I say let her decide," he decreed. "When she comes to, she'll be right on her way to high-level prison. Once I have the power to make those calls again, anyway. But if she fucks up and we have to take her down, we take her down. End of story. She's just too dangerous." He paused; looked at me and Dib, then at Ira. "Fair?" he checked.

"Fair," we all nodded.

I had to admire his willingness to allow her to live in custody. Red was going to be the ruler the Empire deserved, no doubt about that. He understood guilt, but he was firm. And he was smarter than I generally gave him credit for.

And with that cleared up, we could continue on.

"So, these are going to be set up like the ones on the _Massive, _right?" I guessed. "In three parts? Lobes, whatever?"

"Yeah," Red confirmed. "Except this time, they're a little more onto us, they have root access to Miyuki's machines, and GIR is both in there with them and worse than usual."

"He's a satellite Brain, yeah?" Skutch checked.

Red nodded. "More or less."

"And… Miyuki's machines," said Dad, "how do they factor in?"

"One tampers with time; the other, DNA," said Ira. "The Brains can use them to rewind, undo, and evolve if they want to."

A hush fell over our group. Lex and Tenn simultaneously gave Tak a worried look over to make sure she hadn't yet regained consciousness enough to eavesdrop on our plan. Whatever we were going to do now, it had to be very precisely calculated… but none of us knew exactly how much time we'd be allotted to get the job done. And we couldn't spend too much of that precious time working out a plan.

Then, my father hummed. "Inside the central cortex, here," he said, turning mostly to Red but giving all of us his attention, a true Professor at his preferred lectern, "there's access to the machines?"

"Inevitably," said Red. "The Brains are wired right into the heart of the planet."

"Everything's electric," Dad grinned. "Everything's connected."

"Blowing these things up isn't going to completely destroy Devastis, is it?" asked Dib.

"Nah, just kinda stall it for a while," said Tenn. "The Empire always has some built in defenses in case of major emergencies, or risk taking. Devastis is still on its own orbit."

"Perfect," said my father. "If everything is computerized, on one network, I'll go in and shut those machines down. I'll know how. Miyuki always followed a design pattern when she helmed the invention wheel."

Maybe Dad was a threat to the Empire, after all.

Red looked guilty, and Ira shot him a glare. "That's why, isn't it?" Ira hissed at the Tallest.

"Why what?" I wondered.

"Full story later, but yeah," said Red.

"Idiot," Ira mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"That, too, yep. Can we stop wasting time and figure out a plan?"

The plan came to us quickly, in the interest of time: Skutch and Ira would take the Left Brain, Red and Tenn would take the Right, and Dib, Lex and I would take to the Central, with any of the three of us, plus Ira and Tenn, on additional watch to launch a separate attack on Gerohnod. Dad, meanwhile, would spend his time locating and shutting down all access to the two prototype machines my mother had invented, which we knew lay ready in the belly of the living wired planet.

As for Tak… I knew she'd still be dead weight, but I did not want her to be Skutch's burden. Let's face it: he was faster than I was, and a quick shock from his hands would do more damage to the Brains than my own attacks. So I offered to take her. Yes, it put Skutch out of a weapon, but I also figured that I was a more primary target than he would be.

If need be, I'd use Tak as a shield. Or a hostage.

But if I had her, if one of the Heirs had her, that was a whole lot better than a demoted, exiled soldier holding onto the Irken who had usurped the Tallest's position so recently.

Ready, intent, we made our way to the door which, without further ado, my brother blasted in. The room was larger than its counterpart on the _Massive,_ but very similarly situated.

And, exactly as anticipated, who was there to greet us but the Brain-enhanced SIR unit himself, the one I so recently had come to fear.

"Welcome," said the cyborg, outstretching his modified arms as electric sparks snaked around them. "And congratulations on making it this far. State your intent."

"We're just here to set things right, GIR," my brother answered, taking a step forward with caution.

Gerohnod's red eyes narrowed. "You do not get to call me that."

"Well, I have been for a long time now, so, yeah, think I'll keep it up."

Unimpressed, Gerohnod dropped his arms, and the Central Brain behind him began to pulse with its sickly green light. "You humans are all so self-righteous. So conceited," he said. "So destructively full of emotions." Cords pooled out from beneath each of the lobes of the Control Brains, oozing their way like rivers of sludge across the floor toward us. With a grin, Gerohnod beckoned, "Join the machine."

Ira was the first one to strike.

One swing of his thin sword and a cord snapped. Skutch caught the small end that twisted off like the biting end of a decapitated snake, shocked it with one hand, and tossed it down onto the sizzling open wires of the rest of the cord. It lit like a fuse and exploded, causing the perfect distraction, and amount of smoke, for my father to slip away to find the computer with which he could power down my mother's inventions.

"I've had it with you!" Ira shouted at the Brains. And, to the rest of us, "Come on!"

Needing no further invitation to battle, our forces were on the move. Red and Tenn destroyed the cord on their end with gunfire, and rushed to the Right Brain with smoking barrels. Ira and Skutch tore off to the left, and as Dib hurled a blast of energy toward the Central Brain's screen, Lex fired off a volley of arrows in the same direction. Sparks flew, smoke rose, and at the most inopportune moment, Tak woke up.

She let out a shriek and dug her fingers into my neck. I yelped, and flipped backwards, slamming her to the floor. Gerohnod readied a laser blast that he shot in my direction from the center of his palm—thinking fast, I swung Tak around in front of me with Skutch's _manriki,_ and she took the shot, but both of us flew backward, away from the Brains.

"Gaz!" my brother called back after me.

"I've got her!" I hollered over. "Just keep firing, kill these things!"

"You can't," Gerohnod called out. "Not while _Osdraken_ remains intact."

Right, of course…

Hurry up, Zim…

I righted myself, and pinned Tak down on the floor. She, shocked but furious, shifted into hologram. It flickered. Her PAK was still visible. Her eyes burned. "Where are we?!" she demanded, shooting the metal spider legs from her PAK up toward me.

I caught two of the four of them, and pushed back. Before she could make another move, I twisted, flipping her onto her front, then yanked back. Harder, harder, just a little more—I let my palms gather heat, static, energy.

The spider legs that I held began to take the heat, until they were able to melt just enough so that I could snap them.

Tak screamed, and I stabbed the spider legs into her lower back, knowing I'd kill her if I shoved them back into the PAK directly. And we still had to offer her justice. As much as I wanted to, I was not going to kill her. She would be tried first.

"You bitch!" she screamed at me. "You fucking human! You—you—"

"Keep yelling," I scowled. "We're going to destroy these Brains, and we're going to set things right here."

Tak shoved me off, and stood, sloughing off the _manriki_ chains. When the weapon hit the ground, it shifted back to a small dagger, which I knealt to scoop up lest it be lost and tucked it into a pocket. My opponent patted herself for a weapon, then, PAK sparking, simply picked up one of her disembodied spider legs and took a swipe at me. I blasted her, still on my knees. She shook it off.

"Where—_is—he?"_ she growled.

"In the Mirror," I said. "Healing. Finding truth."

"Oh, shut up."

She swiped again, and I rolled out of her way. Finding my footing, I rushed up behind her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and threw her hard against the wall. Tak screamed, and her PAK hissed and sparked, but she did not let go of her weapon.

From the far side of the room, I heard an explosion. Both Tak and I turned toward the sound: Red had just pried off one of the Brains' screens, and both he and Tenn had blasted the form itself repeatedly.

"Keep it up, guys!" Dib called out.

"The Brains…?" Tak realized in awe. Her amazement quickly gave way to rage, and she hollered at me, "You're destroying the Brains?!"

"That's the plan," I said.

She growled and grabbed me. Her PAK still hissing, she held me from behind, holding the hot, sharp shard of her makeshift weapon against my throat.

"You're marching toward an empty goal, you know." The sneer in her voice was impossibly cruel.

"Shut up," I ordered. "You're not in a very good position to be telling me what's attainable."

"Oh, no? Then, let me tell you a secret." Tak leaned up close to my ear so that I could feel her grin. Her chin brushed against my jaw, and her voice was a precise slither as she whispered, "I never called off the Invasion."

I froze, even though I knew damn well that was giving her exactly what she wanted. True, we had somewhat prepared for something like this to happen: Charlotte was still back at headquarters with a good portion of the army, but still… I'd have felt a lot better if one of us could be there as well. Tak knew that, so I did begin to wonder whether or not she was lying

After all, once a profound liar, always a profound liar. She lied to get ahead, just as the Commander had killed and conquered to pave his own way.

I think, if there are four components to a soul, that trust—simple in concept but sometimes a headache in execution—had to be the thing most lacking in Irkens. They just plain did not trust anyone, and I believed that, more or less, it was something that had been bred out of them. I mean, how had all that conquest come about in the first place? Out of a hateful dispute? Out of a fear for other races potentially stronger than the Irkens, or more advanced, and threatening? Our of a misunderstood love for another world?

One thing was for sure: there was a lack of trust between the Irkens and the worlds they went after, to the point that now trust did not even exist in their own society. The Irkens had destroyed themselves, and made themselves into computers. Inside each of them, though, had to be a longing to feel in the way that their ancestors could.

And maybe all of that would come about when the time came for us to break the Mirror of Truth. The truth wouldn't be hidden anymore. They'd know what they lost.

They'd want it back. And it would then be our job to assure them that they could find it. Each and every one of them. It had to start with trusting themselves.

Which I don't think Tak could do. It was kind of sad, honestly. She didn't believe in herself, so she made her own goals so close to those she imagined her idolized Commander would. She was hollow, vindictive. She could manipulate others with a flash of her eyes.

None of it made her happy.

I was pretty sure the only thing she'd ever been proud of was MiMi, and now that little robot was gone.

All Tak had left was the Invasion. Did she believe in it? I couldn't tell.

I used to think that war was stupid. Oh, I still do, just to different extents. All war is, really, is one blown up disagreement. War will continue as long as there are disagreements, but as far as this one particular event went, I knew how we had to end it. And it all came down to trust.

Which was _exactly not_ the message a continued Invasion would be sending.

Our resources were divided, but not evenly so. We had to warn headquarters, that's all there was to it. Get the word out through Lisa Danvers—she'd know how to spread the right kind of alert. But I'd just be setting myself up for worse if I were the one to make the wristwatch call. That'd be one point for Tak in her sick game of push and pull.

That was all her fucking 'game' was. See how far back on the board she could push us until she had all the playing field to herself.

"Our army is prepared," I told her.

"That," she laughed, "I do not believe."

The energy in the room began to rise. I could feel the static emanating from the destroyed lobe of the Brain and gathered it into my palms. I let it fill me, I let it build; I could taste the static electricity, feel it like a pulse.

Then, I reached around behind me, grabbed Tak by her smoldering PAK, and let the sparks fly.

The scream she let out could have shattered glass, and it seemed to have done just that: the second screen on the Brains exploded at the very moment I pushed Tak off of me, and sent her sprawling to the ground. Her PAK was a mess of tangled wires, spilling out like the organs of someone disemboweled. It was the same basic thing, I realized, and it made me sick.

Blue sparks surrounded her. Her hologram flickered. I saw her shaking, possibly with fear. She could not sit up, she could not control her hologram, and for another prolonged yet unknown length of time, she was not a threat.

Since I couldn't work Skutch's weapon to shift it back into a chain, I tied Tak up to the wall with broken wires, folding her hands behind her against a large steam pipe and tying her legs out in front of her.

"One to go!" Dib shouted.

I glanced at Tak and rushed back to the others.

"We don't go down easy," Gerohnod warned, from his position under the central lobe.

"Neither do we," Dib returned.

"No?"

Gerohnod shot the taloned appendages on his right arm out into a thick of settling red smoke off to my right, and I heard a yelp that preceded the cyborg's yanking the appendages back, this time with my father hooked into the clamp. Dad was thrown to the floor, and I couldn't even cry out before Gerohnod sent a blast at him. Dad rolled out of the way, and I, outraged, hurled an orb of energy at the cyborg.

He took the hit, but a countdown showed up on the screen.

I was still pulsing with energy, in a way I had never felt power before.

"You cannot hack Us, Professor!" Gerohnod shouted at my father. From her position to the left, Lex fired a full round at our opponent. He took three hits and blasted the rest to dust. "Nobody can. Not you, not Miyuki herself. The Machine is more powerful than the mind." He held out both hands, gathering a laser blast intended to strike all of us in the way. "That is why We will remain in power. The Blade remains intact. The Machine," he repeated, "is more powerful than the mind."

As he was charging the laser, he was whacked in the head from behind, and crumpled to his knees. I winced from watching the impact, but snapped to attention when I heard, "Think again."

I lifted my head…

And there he was. As if he'd never left. Zim, looking tired but tenacious, stood at the ready, one hand clenched around his uniform jacket, thick with some sort of parcel, the other in a fist, prepared to strike again. His hair was matted slightly with sweat, his jaw clenched, his skin showed signs of battle with cuts and a few streaks of blood… but his eyes, his wonderful brown eyes, looked healthier and livelier than ever.

"Zim!" I shouted, and I was echoed by my brother. Neither of us had any hint of confusion in our tones.

Of course Zim had won. Of course he had. We had no reason to doubt. And hopefully, he had nothing left of his twisted past to fear.

He looked up, grinned, and greeted us, "Hey."

"Impossible!" the cyborg at his feet spat.

Gerohnod kicked out and tripped Zim, who quickly recovered without letting go of his jacket and punched his opponent in the face. Unaffected, Gerohnod grabbed Zim by his upper right arm and tossed him aside. Zim winced, but did not seem to be quite as affected by that laceration as he previously had been.

Dib, from a kneeling position, unsheathed his sword and took a swipe at the cyborg from behind. He got a scratch in on the back of his leg, and was blasted at in retaliation. Dad was quick to back him up, with a shock blast from his gloves.

Not one to be outdone, Gerohnod went down with the blast but flipped himself onto his feet quickly, and tackled me. The sudden hit sent us both to the ground, and briefly shocked the air from my lungs.

I took in a gulp of air and kneed Gerohnod in the ribs, but he did not move.

"Heirs or not," he scowled at me, "you will never win Us over."

"We're just doing what's right," I said, still gulping my breaths. "It's what our mother wanted to do, and it's what we're going to finish. We aren't going to totally wipe out machines, just—"

"You are a threat."

His eyes glowed, and just as I thought I'd be the victim of a blast, Gerohnod was pried off of me, and there Zim was again, this time with a command: "Leave her alone."

Gerohnod whirled and threw a punch. As I scrambled to my feet, Zim blocked and shoved the cyborg down. "You can't have broken it," said our dazed enemy. "It can't be broken!"

"Well, here's to the impossible," said Zim, dealing a harsh left hook. "It's broken, and soon these Brains will shut down."

"Stop him!" I heard the Central Brain lobe drone.

At first, I was pretty certain it was talking about Zim, but when I turned my head toward the Brains again, I saw my father making a dash back toward the space from which Gerohnod had dragged him.

"Everyone who can, FIRE _NOW!"_ Dib called out as a general instruction; he blasted the Brain's screen, and I saw the rest of our party—Tenn, Red, Skutch and Ira—join back with my brother and Lex.

"They're attempting to create a new lock," I heard Red say. My heart skipped. "They're rooting around into Miyuki's machines."

"Charles, _hurry it up!"_ Ira shouted over to my dad.

"Patience is a virtue!" Dad shouted back.

"We don't have time to be patient!"

"Time—" the Brain echoed.

The countdown on the Brain's screen flashed. It read five minutes.

"Shit," I muttered in realization, "it's hacking into both of them…" _Come on, Dad… get there first…_

"Gaz, duck!"

Zim's shout shocked me back, and I ducked just in time to avoid a swift punch Gerohnod had thrown at me. I shoved him back, and Zim held him in a choke hold. It was a weak one; he wouldn't let go of his jacket.

"You didn't destroy the Blade, you lying idiot," Gerohnod snapped mechanically. "If you had, I would not be here."

"I shattered it," Zim reaffirmed, "and the only reason you're still here is that you retain a chip from m—from the Commander's PAK."

Gerohnod grinned. "I see."

He wrestled his way out of Zim's grip, and stared him down. "I take it that's your precious cargo," he chided, ticking one thumb toward the jacket.

I noticed, now, that the shape of the parcel was right, and Zim verbally confirmed it. "Yeah," he said, without a hint of regret. "This was mine." He held out his arms. "And as you can see, I'm perfectly fine without it."

"Then why do you still keep it with you? _Human?"_ The last word was tacked on as a vicious insult, but it nearly made me smile.

"Because it's still important, and it's still a weapon. I destroy this," Zim said threateningly, holding up the parcel in his jacket, "I destroy you. No more of… this," he added, waving his free hand to indicate Gerohnod's newly acquired form.

"Then do it," Gerohnod challenged him. "Ten minutes. Tick, tock."

Zim braced himself, then kicked Gerohnod again to the ground. "Step on the orb," he instructed me, "on his palm."

Stunned, I did, and the human visage faded. GIR lay face down, and before he could spring back into action, Zim bent, opened the robot's head cavity, and yanked out two chips, which caused GIR to power down immediately. "Sorry," he said to the chassis. "I'm really sorry, GIR. We'll get you better… eh… ish. Somehow. Promise."

Then, a smile spread on Zim's face, and his brown eyes danced. "I promise," he repeated, with the ghost of a laugh. He looked up at me. "I—" he began again, softer.

Lost in the moment in which I'd been found, I ran to him. I threw my arms around him, and I had no words, and all I could do was cry out with relief and joy. He set down his bundle and held me in return.

Just like that, there he was.

He was warm, and he was real; he was air when I thought my lungs would collapse, he was the last indisputable truth in the vast, colorful, terrifying, wonderful universe.

I breathed in and smelled blood and rust and worry and decay, and I clung to him, clung to all of it; I clung to the dust of the past and the long, muddy roads we'd had to persevere through thus far, and when I cried it was because I knew that I would never be tainted by any of it, and neither would he. We were both wretched with the smell of war and the fear of the unknown, and beautiful because of it.

I cried.

He let me.

He touched my hair and kissed my eyebrow, and I felt his wild heart beating out the rhythm of everything we could be, everything we were.

We, that heartbeat said, were human. We, it said, would stay strong.

And I cried because I knew, more in that moment than I had ever known before, that I was in love.

That I was flawed, that I was resilient, that I was weak, that I was strong, that I had a voice that someone wanted to hear, that I had hands someone wanted to hold, that I was loved and that I could be happy.

That I would not let anything nor anyone stand in my way.

The first words out of me were, "You're back."

"I promised," he said.

"Oh, my God," I got out.

"Hi, Gaz," was what he whispered next, his voice at my ear, warm and protective. "I'm so sorry, Gaz, I'm so sorry."

"For what?" I blurted. I hit him on the shoulder, then grabbed onto it again. "You're alive."

"So are you." He let out a sigh of relief; held me tighter. "So are you."

"Did you win?" I had to ask.

Zim stepped back a little, and gently guided my right hand over his chest, so I could feel his heart beat. I squeezed my fingers into the drenched, war-heavy fabric of his shirt to the rhythm of the beat. It beat: _stay strong, stay strong, stay strong._ Pulse, pulse, there, mine, real; _stay strong, stay strong._

I smiled. He won.

I loved him.

I kissed him. He held up my chin and kissed me, deep, full, honest.

Say it.

"I—" I started.

But his eyes widened, and he shouted, "GET DOWN!"

He pulled me down with one arm, and shielded his body over mine. At the last second, he scooped his jacket and the empty GIR underneath him as well, and then I felt it: a blast of air, neither hot nor cold, a jolt of electricity. My back stung, but I swallowed the pain.

I let my ears go deaf to everything but my breath and Zim's. For a second, I hung onto only that.

Then, I couldn't ignore the shock anymore.

Zim helped me to my feet, and pulled me back so that we could both survey the current situation with the Brains—whether or not we could do something to help; whether or not Dib and the others had already won.

The explosion had come from the Central Brain's screen. Red smoke poured through the room, and an alarm sounded.

"Run?" I wondered.

"Sounds good to me," Zim agreed.

He bent to gather up his jacket and GIR just as my father ran toward us ordering, _"RUN!"_

"Come on," Zim said, his voice calm amid the chaos, and he grabbed my left hand with his right, carrying his parcels in the crook of his other arm, and then we were running.

Everyone was. I could feel energy pouring out of the room after us, and my head began to pound. The Brains had no time to protest before the final explosions began; I heard the hissing and crackling of wires, and then booming, crashing explosions. The alarm was shrill, and then, as the team of us were making our way through the corridors leading back out of the maze and toward the planet's surface, I heard the vocal warning:

_"Devastis has been breached. Lockdown is imminent. Devastis has been breached. No systems online. Repeat: no systems online. Lockdown is imminent."_

"What's that mean?" Lex hollered over the din to Red.

"It means we need to get off Devastis," was his answer.

"You said the planet wouldn't explode!"

"It isn't going to, but if there's a breach and we're still here, the Armada still under Brain control will be on us, _fast."_

The Armada…

Oh, shit.

"Fuck!" I shouted, nearly skidding to a halt. Zim coaxed me forward, and Dib rushed up to my right to give me an extra push.

"What?" Dib wondered.

Tenn ran ahead of us, along with Red, and the two navigated our way around sharp corners, through doors (one of which Dib had to blast to open), and closer to the surface, where our ships were docked and waiting. Hopefully.

"The Armada!"

"What about it?"

"Tak didn't call off the Invasion and—_oh, fuck, TAK!"_ I started shaking, and tripped. Zim and Dib pulled me back up, and I saw my father cast me a look of concern as I made myself keep running.

We'd made it outside.

We continued running.

The sound wasn't quite so loud, but we still had to shout to be heard.

As I maneuvered over the metallic landscape of Devastis's central city, I called out guiltily, "Tak is still in there! I beat her up and tied her to a vent or something. She's still—"

"Then she's dead," Red said, glancing at me over his shoulder, "and there's nothing we can do about it."

"But we—"

"I said there's nothing we can do about it, _come on."_

We ran in silence until we reached the ships. Tenn's was still there, as was Dib's. No sign of the rest of the troops from the SEC, but Tenn assured us that their orders were to re-board at any sign of danger.

"Okay… Red, Ira, Zim, you're with Tenn," Dib instructed as we neared the ships. Dad, Lex, Skutch, you're with me. Gaz…"

Taking the shortest pause in the world, Dib glanced between me and Zim, then bit his lip and said, "Second thought, Dad, Skutch, you guys co-pilot the Runner. Tenn, is there room for—"

"There is room for shutting up and getting on _now, YES."_

And that was that.

There was plenty of room on Tenn's large fleet ship to take us all; Lex ended up with us as well, and Skutch helped my father pilot the Runner off ahead of us. Tenn was off to the command bay of her own ship the second we had all boarded, and Dib took charge of accounting for our soldiers just as the ship began to take off.

I had no time to look around inside the vessel until we were in orbit, but my brain was so muddled with thoughts of things I had to do or should have done that I could not focus. Zim drew me down a hall, and I heard Dib saying something and I heard Ira saying something and I heard Red shouting something, but all I felt was dizzy and sick and confused and full of static.

All I noticed was that Zim had sat me down near a window—I looked out, and watched Devastis's stratosphere glow red, and then fade to blue.

Then, I vomited and passed out.

– – –

– – –

**Author's Note:**

Aaaahhhh so sorry to have kept you waiting so long! I really needed the break (sorry to have done so unannounced, ack), and I am happy to be back into slowly writing and editing this story again. Thank you so much for your patience through this hiatus, and I will definitely try to stay on top of things in order to get to the conclusion of this story soon. :3

Thanks for reading! Loose ends tied and answers on the way soon!

~Jizena~

– – –


	12. Vort 1: The Fourth Talisman

– – –

**Author's Note:**

_Invader Zim_ is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3

~Jizena~

– – –

_Zim's Records_

Gaz was unconscious for half an hour after we left Devastis.

The time between her passing out and reviving was both the longest and fastest half hour of my life.

One moment, I was sitting her up in a berth carved into the wall near the window, ordering water and cleaning her off, washing her wounds, her face, her hair, kissing her temples and feeling the heat emanating from her back and her hands; the next thing I knew, I was locked in a conversation with Red, Dib and Ira, hardly certain of how exactly the conversation had begun.

All that mattered was that Gaz was safe, the Devastis Brains had been effectively destroyed, my PAK and GIR both lay dormant to the side, I was three-quarters human and we were making a course back to Station Nine to destroy the third nest of Control Brains.

All but one of the SEC soldiers had been accounted for on the ship.

Everyone but Tak had made it out of the Brain control room.

One of Tenn's men brought in a folding table for the four of us to meet around, so that we did not have to leave the room, itself a smallish grey side room between two weapons halls, in case Gaz came to. Another man brought in spare (nearly overwhelmingly comfortable) jeans for both Dib and myself, since Gaz's final action before fainting had been decorating both of us in whatever she'd had for her most recent meal and then some. Lex busied herself running requirements for Tenn, checking in on this and that, and remaining our primary contact to Professor Membrane and Skutch in the Spittle Runner. The four of us sat around the table, debriefing.

"How'd you find us?" Dib was asking when my head caught up with the conversation.

"Me?"

"Yeah," he said, giving me a look.

"Oh, eh… well, after my fight, I, um… the Mirror… dropped me off, I guess I could say," I recalled. It had indeed. It had led me back to Devastis, though I'd still had to look around for the others. The Commander had known how to use it to maneuver through space. I hadn't the slightest clue. And there was no Miyuki around to help.

"So it's still back there?" Red guessed.

"Either that, or Miyuki came to collect," Dib sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing the space between his eyes. "It'd figure she'd do something like that, rather than just plain, y'know, _help."_

"Speaking of her helping, your dad did short out her machines," said the Tallest. "Devastis went into lockdown, which can only mean good things, for us. Nobody can get in there and tamper with time, no one can use Miyuki's inventions, and the Brains are gone." He paused. "And, apparently, so is Tak."

"Eh," I doubted, "is she, really?"

"I'd rather not make so rash an assumption," said Ira. "Until there's solid evidence otherwise, I'm going to assume she's still alive."

"And probably even more unstable," Dib added. "I'd rather not assume she's dead at this point, too."

Red rubbed his temples, annoyed. "Okay," he grumbled, "fine. So at some point we need to nail down exactly what happened to Tak, but I don't want to make that a priority right now. I feel sick."

Tensing, Dib said, warily, "Me, too. Did the Brains, um… did they do to you the same kind of thing they did on the _Massive?_ Red? Lock a program?"

"Judging by how sore I am right now, yeah," said Red. "I made the right call shifting to temp, though. They cut out my anti-grav this time. Joke's on them, I'm already walking." Dryly, to himself, he added a rough false laugh.

"Are they trying to kill you?" Ira wondered, sounding oddly sympathetic. He looked different. His eyes were softer. His voice was smoother.

Oh—I realized: he was human.

Good. Good… I was grateful for that.

"I guess," Red mumbled. "Making an example of me while I help these kids make examples outta the Brains. Anyway, there's more important shit to discuss." He glared across the table at me. "How are you?"

"Me? I'm… fine," I answered. "Feeling a lot at once. It's good to get caught up, though. So, Brains on the _Massive_ are down?"

"Yes," Dib confirmed, sounding tired. "What's our best plan of action to get at the ones on Station Nine? Break the Mirror? We'd have to go back to Devastis for it."

"Forget the Mirror right now," Red advised. "It's the ultimate Talisman, it's the thing protecting Irk."

I felt myself laugh a little. "Because it protects the truth," I realized.

"And the worst, the most powerful of the Brains, remained there," Red nodded. "The things we've been up against so far have been decision makers, footsoldiers. The ones on Station Nine are near defunct already. This should be easy."

"Can we just blow the Station up?" Ira suggested.

Red grinned. "You _did_ learn something from me."

"No," Ira said sharply, "I just think it makes sense."

"Blowing shit up always makes sense."

Dib pounded the table heavily with both palms. "Okay! We blow up the Station! I am fine with that, I am totally, one hundred per cent fine with that."

"Me, too," I added.

"But we can't blow up a damn fucking thing until we have a plan and until we destroy the Talisman that's guarding this batch of apparently already pretty weak Brains, but we're not going to get anywhere unless we know what that thing is." Dib paused. _"Do_ we know what it is?"

Ira and Red exchanged a glance. Ira sighed and leaned forward onto the table, while Red slowly shook his head. "The archives wiped the information of it," said the Tallest. "Either that, or I've forgotten."

"…Would GIR know?" I offered.

"Zim, do not boot that thing up again," Dib warned me.

"I know, I know," I interrupted when he started to give me that old scathing look of his. "I don't want to deal with him right now, either. He'll die when my PAK does. Or, Gerohnod will. But if we can access his files…"

"Last resort resource," Dib decided. "We'd need Skutch for that, though, he hacked GIR before, I trust him. For that kind of thing, anyway. I want to regroup with him and my dad regardless, before we just go headlong toward Vort. I'm sure Tenn would agree. Plus, Gaz…"

Dib cast a glance over at his sister. "She's exhausted," he said. "I want to let her rest. If that means having her sit out Station Nine, that's fine by me; I just want her to be okay."

"Well," said Ira, rising, "let's let her sleep while she can. Red, you go look up a good spot to re-group with the others, and start looking up whatever you can about this Talisman…"

"I don't take orders," Red started, only to receive an awful, scornful look from his ex-partner.

"You owe me," Ira said, dourly.

Red froze. Dib and I froze and attempted (unsuccessfully) to avert our eyes from the scene. Ira did not let up on his glare. After a breathless moment, Red stiffly got out of his seat and, looking at Ira with more guilt than I had ever seen one person display, he agreed, "I owe you." The Tallest walked toward the exit on uncertain feet, and added a mumbled, "I'm sorry," before leaving the room.

Dib and I did the intelligent thing by not reacting, and Ira did his part by instantly changing the subject. "Dib," he started, "we need to talk about the rest of this mission. Primarily the inevitability of how and when we return to Earth."

"I… yeah, no, I figured," Dib fumbled to answer. "I just… that's one of the reasons I need to catch up with Dad. In all honesty," he went on, shifting his focus towards me somewhat, "I want my ship back. And I want to move Dad and Lex off the battlefield before we get to Irk. Also, I… I need someone to head the counter-strike, if need be, against the Armada. I am not putting Charlotte and the Corporation in the line of fire without my best defense."

I caught his meaning clearly. "You mean me," I deduced. "You're moving me back…?"

"I—look, Zim, you have come such a long way. I'd prefer to keep you with us, for Gaz, but it'll have to depend on a few things. You're the best I have to lead my army back to Earth, the best I've got to keep them safe." He stared me down, not challenging me, but driving his point home. "I need you to be the one to defend Earth with all you've got," he said. "You'll have Dad. You'll have Lex."

"You'll have me," Ira added. Dib gave an understanding nod. "Right now," the doctor continued, "all I want to do is go home." Steeling himself, he added, "Plus, if Charles and I can get to Victor in time…"

"You will," Dib assured Ira, and himself.

I listened to everything Dib had been saying, and understood his point, but a great part of me did not want to leave. I didn't want to leave Gaz vulnerable to more spells like this. What if she passed out and Dib couldn't help her? What would happen to her on Irk?

Yet, at the same time, I trusted her. I trusted her more than I had recently been able to trust myself. I knew that she would be all right. I knew that her brother would not let any harm come to her. I trusted Red to know when enough was enough for either of the siblings.

I trusted that Gaz would be okay.

I hated the fact that I could not stay, but I knew that Dib was not making plans out of thin air.

"Okay," I said with only some trepidation. "But please let me stay with her until she wakes up."

"Oh, no, yeah, of course," said Dib. "Nobody's moving anywhere till we can all regroup."

"I'll go talk to Tenn about the pit stop," Ira offered.

"And Lex about the plan," Dib asked.

Ira smiled. "I think you should talk to her, kid. She'd rather hear it from you."

Dib flushed, but agreed. "You'll be home sooner than you know it, Ira," he added before the doctor could leave.

With a slight, put-on bow, Ira grinned and returned, "So will you."

Dib laughed, and when Ira had taken his leave, he turned to me.

"Everything's seriously fine, right?" he asked, staring me down as if to read into the most recent few hours of my life.

"Mostly," I replied honestly. "I beat my Fear, Dib, but I'm not whole yet."

Dib let out all of his breath, and studied me, his lips in a tight line so as not to give away any emotion, any hint of thought. His eyes flickered. "What's in your jacket?"

"My PAK," I said. Dib remained still as a statue, listening, understanding. "Or, his. I don't know, but it's _the_ PAK, the one that was attached to me, and now it isn't. It isn't in me, and it isn't on my back, and I don't _technically_ need it, except that if I destroy it, it'll still give me only ten minutes to live." I saw him chew his lower lip, and I sighed. "I'm not fully human yet, but now I'm way more human than Irken." I gestured to my jacket, and the thing wrapped inside it. "That's the only bit left of me that's Irken. If I earn I soul, I won't need it, so it'll just not exist."

Dib thought for a beat, then simply said, "Huh. Okay."

He cleared his throat.

"How's your arm?" he asked.

"It's okay," I said. "Still, y'know, bleeding and sore, but I can ignore it a little better." When he didn't reply, I asked, "How are you? And I mean honestly. Based on whatever I—he… did."

To my surprise, he gave a half-smile. "I got a little cut up, but we're all here, aren't we?"

That was pretty much the answer I was looking for.

"And Gaz…?" I asked, more cautiously.

"You need to talk to her," Dib said. His eyes, I noticed, were red and brown and cloudy with tears I wasn't sure he wanted to show me, or anyone. "Did, um… did you see exactly what happened? When she passed out."

I shook my head. "You?"

Dib repeated my action, and looked over at his sister. "I think I feel a little of it, though," he said.

"Feel?"

"Her hands were hot, you said."

"Yeah."

"And, uh, her back."

"Yes."

Dib nodded stiffly. "Yeah," he said, as if he'd just come out of some big long conversation in his head, "the static's getting stronger. I think she's a little more susceptible to it."

"You mean," I guessed, "like, Irken static?"

"It's everywhere. It's in us, and I think the closer we get, the more we'll feel it. Plus, I mean, Gaz has been, uh…"

"Yeah," I agreed. I was part of the reason she was so 'uh…' too. Hopefully, somehow, I could help ease whatever grief I had already caused. Looking at her, I said, "I'm so sorry."

"You weren't in control," Dib noted.

I folded my arms, closed my eyes to fold into myself, hold every fragment of humanity I'd earned inside me. My conscience was heavy, and I was tired, but I was determined. "I should have been stronger," I apologized, looking at Dib again.

Dib sighed, and leaned against the wall near the doorway. "Man, if being strong enough to face down all your demons was an easy task, we wouldn't be where we are right now," he said evenly. "You don't think I wish I could just gather myself and get over this hurdle and go home? I'm so fucking exhausted, Zim. But I have to be here for my sister, my family, my friends, my whole damn planet. That's just how things are, though. We're human. We want to do better. We fail, we keep going. Do you understand that?"

I let myself breathe. "Yeah," I realized, re-experiencing those words, "I do."

"I know you do." A pause. "As far as I'm concerned, you've earned it, Zim. Belong where you want to, you've got the choice." He glanced at Gaz, then at me again. "I'm glad that we're ending this as allies."

I felt a sting in my chest, a mix of humility and pride. "Me, too."

Gaz stirred.

"Talk to her," Dib urged me again. As he ducked out the door, he added, "See you around."

"'Kay," I managed.

Dib gave a slight backwards wave. He did look exhausted.

Static, huh? The two of them must have felt pretty sick, if it had anything to do with the heat of a PAK charge. Electricity is the blood of a machine. A PAK charge controls the nerves in both the body and the machine, it regulates the brain. Gaz and Dib were born human, had human thoughts, doubts, fears, hopes; the static would try to regulate them, unless they continued to release it, use that very static to destroy the Control Brains.

Shit.

They had to shut down the machine before it could shut them down first.

I knealt beside Gaz's berth and brushed back her hair, where it had fallen across her face. "You'll be all right," I whispered. "Stay strong." She stirred, but was still sleeping. I felt myself laugh a little. "I don't have to keep telling you that, though, do I?" I continued. "You're the strongest girl I know. You don't shut down. You don't give up. You don't take anyone's shit, right? These Brains can't push you around. They can't tell you what to feel. Because you're Gaz Membrane, and you are determined, and willing, and intelligent, and clever… you're everything the Brains can't stand, and you're not going to let them stop you."

I moved my hand to her shoulder, and said, "I know what strength is because of you. You gave me something to believe in. Something to strive for. You helped me know myself." I caught a glimpse of the glint of her ring. "And I love you."

I sat back, and situated myself with my back against the wall beside her, waiting for her to wake up. In the corner, neither GIR nor the PAK in my uniform jacket showed any signs of life.

I waited another five minutes before Gaz finally yawned.

When she came to, the whites of her eyes were stained pink with a mix of fatigue, the dust and decay from the explosions she had just run from, tears she had already cried and tears that were waiting their turn. Her irises were their usual calming brown, flecked with an improbable shade of green. Her eyes, as wholes, met mine, and her body released a sigh, though her expression bore more vague doubt than relief.

Until I said, "Hi."

Gaz's features softened, and she fell forward against me. She draped her arms around my shoulders and held me carefully, folding her fingers into the fabric of my shirt. "Hi," she whispered back, her breath cool and gentle on my neck.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Dizzy. And tired. But really, really glad you're here." Gaz drew in a breath, and lifted her head to let it out. "Zim, I am so happy you're here."

She moved her right hand so that she could feel my heartbeat, and I took her hand with both of mine, running my thumbs over the ring I had given her. It was so wonderful to see her smile.

When I leaned forward to kiss her, however, she shirked back.

"What?" I wondered. "I'm sorry if I—"

"No, it isn't you," said Gaz. "I just… I just puked on you." She drew her hand back, and, embarrassed, leaned against the side of the berth. "Ugh. I just puked all over you."

"Just below the knees," I laughed. "Nice aim."

"Oh, shut up."

I grinned; she did, as well.

"Zim," she said after a silent moment, "I really want to talk to you, I have… I have so much I want to talk to you about, but right now I really, really want to brush my teeth."

"No problem. Can you stand?"

"I'm sure it wouldn't hurt if you helped."

"I promise it won't hurt at all."

Gaz's eyes misted over again when I said that, but she was smiling when she offered me her hand. I lifted her to her feet gently, and let her lean against me as I walked her down the hall. About ten steps down the corridor, I realized I could not read a single damn sign, nor did I know the layout of the ship to guide Gaz to where she could wash up.

Her hands were still very warm. Her back had cooled.

We were lucky to run into one of the soldiers working as a crewman, and he pointed us in the right direction. Since there aren't exactly lavatories on Irken vessels, all of the washing happened in the kitchen. Irkens are never without a place to prepare food. There was no toothpaste, but there was mouthwash—Gaz gargled four times before I cautioned her that she'd probably done plenty to kill the bacteria, and should stop if she ever wanted to taste anything else ever again.

"Better mint than pork," she mumbled when she re-capped the mouthwash.

"What?"

"Nothing."

I offered her my hands to grip and my shoulder to lean against yet again, and walked her away from the kitchen and into a currently empty control room, where all of the seats were red and purple benches in a horseshoe formation, half of them situated under computer screens, half underneath a wall that was entirely a window.

We sat beside the stars.

"Thank you," was the first thing she said to me.

"No problem. Feel better?" I asked. I brushed wisps of hair out of her face and tucked the strands behind her ears.

She freed her hair of its elastic hold, and I continued to brush my fingers through.

"I'm fine," she said, "I mean—that's kind of a general 'thank you,' Zim."

"Yeah?" I leaned in, and touched my forehead to hers. Gaz lay her hands on my shoulders, her palms still hot to the touch.

"Yeah. Because you keep your promises. And it makes me believe that others will keep theirs, too.

"I have so much faith in you," she continued, "and it's helping me trust more. I trust Red to do the right thing, I trust that we're going to be okay, that Dib and I will be fine, that Mom's not completely crazy. I would have no idea what trust is without you, without how I've gotten to know you."

I breathed in her words, and kissed the corner of her eye. "I feel the same," I told her. "I don't know if Irkens _can't_ trust, or if they just stubbornly _won't,_ but I feel so far removed from that, Gaz, and it's thanks to you."

She nodded, and yawned. I shifted so that she could tuck her head into the crook of my shoulder, and for a few minutes, we sat there just like that. I kept one hand between her shoulderblades as she breathed in and out. After a long moment had passed, she adjusted again; she kissed my neck and lay down on the purple bench to rest her head in my lap. I leaned against the window, my back to the stars, my eyes on her.

"Did you guys figure it all out?" she asked to break the silence.

"Eh?"

"About the Invasion and whatever." Gaz rolled onto her back, keeping her head in my lap, and looked up at me with worry. "Tak didn't call off the Invasion. The whole thought of it made me sick. Sorry again about the puke."

"Don't worry about it. The last thing," I said. "And as for the Invasion, we think we have a plan."

"Yeah?"

I cleared my throat. "Yeah, and um… it involves me not going all the way to Irk with you guys."

Slowly, Gaz sat up. Our shoulders touched. She set her right hand on my knee and dug her fingers into the denim of my jeans. "Oh," she said.

"Yeah." I held my breath for a moment, as if that could hold the moment. "Dib wants me leading forces back on Earth. Which I get. I want to do whatever I can."

"Is Ira going with you?"

"Probably, yeah. He wants to."

"Good," Gaz sighed. "He needs to see Lisa."

"Who's Lisa?"

Gaz laughed. "Oh, yeah, you weren't there. Ira's fiancée. She's the reporter you saved from the Resisty, Zim. That's Ira's girlfriend."

I blinked. "Wow."

"Yeah."

"Small, eh… universe."

"Small and crazy," Gaz elaborated.

"Small and crazy universe," I agreed.

Another silence.

"So Ira's going with you?" Gaz asked, nearly whispering.

"Yes. And your dad, and probably Lex. Tenn and Red would stay with you."

"Oh."

"Mm." Silence again. "Red and Ira," I went on, knowing Gaz was at least a little hungry for information, "know that this horde of Brains will be easier to take out, though. We just have to figure out what the fourth Talisman is, and once the shield is down, we're going to blow Station Nine off the starcharts."

"Good," Gaz said, rashly.

"My thoughts exactly."

Her eyes narrowed. "But we don't know what the Talisman is."

I sighed. "We don't. Red's looking into it."

"Okay."

Gaz glanced over her shoulder, passing her gaze through the vastness. "You'd be going back because of Tak, right?" she guessed.

"The threat of the Armada, yeah," I said.

"Figured."

She did not get a chance to elaborate on her worries, however, as at that moment we were joined by the one person in our group who did not concern himself with the inconveniences of interruption.

"Hey," Red said from the opening of the room, "we need to talk."

"Um," I tried, casting a sideways glance at Gaz, who in turn was looking ready to tear Red a new one.

"Oh, hi," said the Tallest, "you're up. Good. You can be in on this."

I groaned, and leaned forward onto my knees, running my hands through my hair. "What, Red?" I gave in.

"Talisman stuff. I need to talk to you. Tenn's pulling into an abandoned freight check station. Skutch and the Professor'll be around in a couple minutes and you," he said, "can help us identify this missing piece."  
I doubted I could, but there was little to no use telling Red that. Moments later, Gaz and I were on our feet and following the Tallest to Tenn's command room. As we walked, Gaz squeezed my hand, and pulled me down to whisper, "Zim, I'm worried."

"What about?"

"I don't think Tak's dead."

"Neither do I," I assured my girlfriend, letting her walk closer. "We'll get her."

"I want her to face justice, though," said Gaz. "If you encounter her, and if you can help it, try not to kill her."

"Believe me," I said, "I wouldn't. I don't want to kill if I don't absolutely have to. I'm all for fair trials. Life is life, you know?"

"I know." Gaz held my hand tighter, and leaned her head on my shoulder as we continued our walk down the ship's corridor. "You're so honest, Zim."

I grinned, glad to know that honesty was a quality that could describe me. "Thanks," I told her.

And then, she said:

"I love that about you."

My heart stalled, and I felt a rush, blood flowing to my head as I processed that word she had just said.

"What?" I choked on my response.

"You're honest. And you're strong," said Gaz, "and you're motivated, and you stick to your word."

"I—"

"I love that about you."

I felt something scratch against the inside of my ribcage. The laceration on my right arm felt hot. Somehow, my mind registered:

_You are being tested._

This was it.

Last push.

Last fragment.

It wasn't going to be easy.

Love never is.

"Thank you," I said graciously, bending to kiss Gaz's cheek.

It was our last moment alone for quite some time.

But it had begun.

– – –

The freight check station that served as our rendezvous point was indeed abandoned, and eerily so. It was a hovering platform, anchored in orbit to Vort, but hanging on by thin gravitational threads. Grey and decrepit, it probably wouldn't take long for the station to deteriorate into dust, but for now, at least, it could hold our two ships. Freight check stations dated back to the days when the Irken Empire merely had _trade ports_ with other planets. Once the Invasions began, there was no reason to negotiate trade. The Brains commanded what was what, and the Tallest carried out the Brains' orders, telling the conquered planets what to do, or what they would become.

There was an angular building on the station, only two storeys high, grey as gravel, windowpanes gone, computer system undoubtedly shot.

Nobody would ever know we were here.

Skutch and the Professor parked the Spittle Runner directly next to Tenn's larger ship, and came aboard into the room we had first found ourselves in, where the table was still set up by the berth. Another table was brought in and the two were shoved together, which allowed most of us to fit around it. Dib chose to stand, which meant that he _paced something awful_ throughout the meeting, but I almost couldn't blame him. If he didn't keep moving, he'd probably pass out just like Gaz had.

"So's it true you guys figured out what the hell this new Talisman thing is?" Skutch queried to get things rolling.

He'd grabbed a seat beside me; Gaz was on my left, and on her father's right. I felt oddly tense around her father, even though he had personally encouraged me more than once. I just didn't want to give him any reason to doubt that I had Gaz's well-being at the very top of my priorities. Ira was across from us, sitting intentionally next to Tenn, who separated him from Red. It was almost seeming more natural to see Tenn and Red as a team, rather than Red and Ira.

Ira belonged on Earth, on the human side of everything, and it was showing more and more.

Lex sat between Skutch and Ira, and as Dib paced, he would touch her shoulder, or clench the back of her chair; she would glance back, touch his arm, or mouth small phrases to him if he needed to calm down.

GIR and my PAK still lay to the side of the room. I hadn't looked at the PAK again yet. I wasn't sure if it was shutting down or not, but something was definitely starting to feel different about the way I was breathing.

Fragments of a fragment, that was all I could currently feel.

"Not entirely," said the Tallest. Dib turned and started pacing in the other direction. I saw Lex mouth _slow down, _and felt Gaz tense beside me. "A quick lookup in Tenn's computer system told us what it _used to be, _but…"

"That doesn't make sense," said Dib, who I knew to believe almost anything. "A Talisman can't change, can it? Or be anything other than it's supposed to be. If it breaks, it's broken and that's it. Right?"

"The Cabochon, the Talisman that guarded the _Massive_ Brains, has been in different fixed places over the years," Tenn explained. "It was more vulnerable as just a gem set in Tavis, but it's been added onto staffs and archways in the past."

"So this fourth one, or third one or what have you," Professor Membrane began, "it's only a piece of something we're looking for?"

Red nodded, and looked right at me. Which got everyone else looking at me.

"What?" I wondered. My heart skipped.

Ira glanced at me, then down at the table, and then, with a forced sigh, he leaned back and tapped Red's shoulder. Red also leaned behind Tenn (who, herself, looked pretty annoyed at the fact that the two people she'd been so angry at until recently were talking around her) as Ira said, "Can we give the guy a break? If he doesn't remember, he doesn't remember."

"Oh, Goddammit," I muttered, drumming my fingers nervously on the table.

"Sorry," said Red. "I, um, I shouldn't keep assuming."

"Or keep getting angry over things you can't just reach into the past and fix," Ira added, quietly.

Red shook his head and repeated the apology.

"So what was it?" Lex asked.

"What happened?" Skutch added.

Gaz set her hand on my knee, the action obscured by the table. It was a comfort I wasn't aware I'd needed until her presence was there; I lay my hand over hers, and our fingers folded together.

"You—the Commander, I mean, stole it," Red reported. I clenched my girlfriend's hand involuntarily. "It was a knot, like an ornamentation, in the rim of a shield."

"He didn't use shields," Skutch recalled. "That's bullshit."

"That's what I thought, too, but it's on record," said Tenn. "He probably stole it to prove some kind of point."

"That shields are a sign of weakness, or something?" I guessed.

"Probably."

Great. I let out a groan. I wanted so badly to just move on, but as long as I remained anywhere in the Empire, the ghost of the actions I had taken in the past would follow and surround me like a fog. "So he stole a shield, and probably made some big show of destroying it," I realized. "But he most likely kept that piece around, just to say he had it." Gaz leaned closer to me.

Of course shields are useful. I was hers, and she was mine. Sometimes vulnerability is inevitable, but having support, having a shield… that's strength. The Commander was so afraid of his own undoing that he made himself believe he was beyond the need of someone or something to protect him.

"Meaning GIR probably could identify it," Dib resigned.

"Unless we play a guessing game," said Lex. "And I don't think we have time for that."

"Shit," I fumed. "Sorry I can't be more—"

All of a sudden, Gaz sat straight up.

"Something you stole," she said, sounding haunted.

I felt a sting in my chest. "Yeah?"

"Something you stole," she repeated. Gaz squeezed my hand and angled herself to face me. "Zim," she said slowly, "I have something you stole."

"Eh?!" shot out of me before I could come up with any intelligent way to try to deny her claim.

Red was profoundly intrigued. "This could be useful," he said, almost cracking a smile.

"What is it?" Tenn wanted to know.

"You don't…" I finally managed. I let go of Gaz's hand and ran my fingers through my hair. "I… no, sorry you can't. Or… I mean, how _can _you?"

Flushed and flustered, Gaz lay her hands down on the table. Dib abruptly stopped pacing. Lex got it first, and responded with an apologetic look across the table to her friend. Gaz nodded, and looked down.

"I don't get it," said Skutch.

Neither did I.

Until I followed Gaz's gaze downward. Until she said, "This. It's made of Tavis. You stole it, or, you said GIR told you that you did. It's in your letter."

No.

Fuck, no, anything but that.

It was indeed a shield. One Gaz had worn on her hand since her thirteenth birthday.

"Talk about hiding in plain sight," I heard Dib say under his breath.

Tepidly, Gaz spun her ring around on her finger. It caught the light. Yes, I remembered… during the Incident, I had found a bit of Tavis in my eerily modified basement, smoothed it into a band, and had it forged into a ring, because GIR had informed me of the material's protective qualities. I had intended for it to protect Gaz in the coming conflict.

Now we had to destroy it. And we were going to separate ends of the war.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "Gaz, I didn't know, I swear I didn't know."

I felt like I was falling apart.

"It's okay," she replied, meeting my eyes. In hers, I saw all the reassurance and trust and honesty of the universe. I hurt from the knowledge that I had given her a stolen weapon of war in an act of love, but began to feel confident with knowing that it may not have been the object itself that she'd held onto, but what I had wanted it to represent.

To the others, she announced, "I have the fourth Talisman." She held up her hand. "Zim gave me this ring a few years ago. It's…" Gaz trailed off, cradling her hand in her other so she could admire the ring. I wanted to reach for her but stopped myself. "I love it," she sighed. "I've held onto this, and it's protected me, and now I think I'll love it even more, if breaking it will help save millions of people."

"We should still cross-reference it," Tenn advised, rising gracefully. "Zim, I'm sorry, but we'll have to hook GIR into my system."

This was too much at once for me. Past encroached upon present with every word we were speaking, and this was not the time to chance reviving GIR. We were all exhausted; I didn't want to put us at the risk of another unnecessary fight. Thinking fast for an alternative, I dug into my pocket to withdraw the chips I had removed from GIR's cranial chassis. "These are the rudiments of GIR's memory bank." They were warm in the palm of my hand. "Can we just use these?" I asked.

"Skutch?" Tenn checked.

My brother shrugged. "Should be fine."

"Then come on," said Red. "I want to nail down a plan. And then eat. I'm starving."

"You're always hungry," Ira chastised.

"I'm always working," Red fought back. After a pause, he added, "But I honestly can't remember when work felt this fulfilling."

Dib managed a laugh. "I think that's the most complimentary thing I've ever heard you say, Red."

"To whom?" his father wondered.

Dib shrugged. "In general. But I agree, let's get this going."

When we moved down the hall to Tenn's control room again, both Dib and Lex hung back near me and Gaz for the first several paces. GIR's memory chips remained clenched in my right hand. Dib leaned in to whisper something to his sister before moving ahead, and Lex did the same seconds later. Gaz nodded vaguely each time. Ira brushed past us and patted his goddaughter's shoulder; Professor Membrane patted the top of her head. The two stayed close as we walked.

"Not used to that much attention," she mumbled, though she sounded congratulatory.

"What'd Lex and Dib have to say?" I asked, feeling the sting in my chest again when Gaz started fiddling with her ring out of nerves.

"They both asked me if I was okay."

My mind suddenly wandered to Miyuki's machines. The Time Warp Machine in particular. Tak had stolen it to accelerate time, to try to work things in her favor. I had wondered why for so long, but now, faced with an action I felt myself wishing I could go back in time to erase, I began to understand her reasoning.

Why would anyone want to manipulate time?

It's always to be at an advantage. Back or forward, it's all in the hopes to better a situation for an individual.

It's done out of fear.

Tak, I understood in that moment, lived her life in fear, whether or not she wanted to admit it.

Gaz, on the other hand, knew how to scowl at fear, how not to let it get the best of her, how to recognize it and how to keep it at bay.

That was why she was all right, giving up the ring. Why she wasn't fighting it, as much as she claimed to love the object.

But love, I started to understand, sometimes means letting go. Love sometimes means moving forward. Love embraces change. Fear does not.

"Are you?" I asked anyway.

Gaz looked up at me with a half-smile that showed her mixed but resilient feelings on the matter. "What do you think?" she returned.

I smiled back, and hugged her to my side as we walked.

Once in the command room, flanked by computer screens, Gaz hesitantly removed her ring and handed it over to Tenn. When she was no longer wearing it, Gaz felt around the bare space on her finger and leaned back against me.

"You sure you're fine?" I asked her.

Lowering her hands, Gaz answered, "You came back, didn't you? Your letter said to wear that till you could come back. Honestly, Zim, it's okay. I really loved it. I loved the thought that went into it, and knowing it symbolized something, and now I love that it can help us save the Empire. Plus," she added, "I still have the letter."

…Oh, yeah, that thing. I did feel a twinge of embarrassment over the desperation and doubt with which I'd written it, but that soon faded to a subtle sense of pride for how far not only I but we together had come since then.

_ We're human. We want to do better. We fail, we keep going._

I had promised to protect her; I had promised to come back. She had lived, and fought, and waited.

I hugged her, and she gripped my hands. And we moved on to the next step.

In the control room, Tenn took her command seat, and I handed her GIR's chip to be installed to the data core. After fitting the chip to a tiny scanner, Tenn gave the ring over to Skutch, who looped it into a loose wire hanging from a small computer screen. "Computer," he ordered, "run a scan. Cross-reference with the SIR chip. Verify the identity of that, uh… thing."

"You tried," Tenn grumbled. "Computer," she added, "trace SIR archives to find a match for this Tavic relic."

_"My name's Tenn, I use big words," _Skutch mocked innocently, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, and I'm also a better pilot," Tenn said without skipping a beat.

Skutch pretended to ignore her; Tenn smirked, knowing she had won. All eyes, then, were on the computer screen. Colors and numbers and unreadable Irken words flew by as the machine processed, drawing us seconds closer to verification.

Tapping his foot hurriedly, Dib said an almost too sharp, "Well, as long as we're standing around, I'd like to be productive. Can we talk next moves?"

"Agreed," Red said, also sounding in a rush.

"Impatience isn't exactly the best companion to decision-making," Ira warned. He was keeping his calm surprisingly well. "Besides, we've already made the biggest choices: who's staying, who's going back to Earth."

Lex shifted uncomfortably at Dib's side. She seemed to be struggling to keep focus on the computer screen. Her mind must have been torn in the two directions the continuation of the war was taking; it was impossible to tell which way she was leaning. I understood completely. So much rested on both sides.

All I did know was that, whatever move I'd make next, it would be out of love. The sheer love of feeling human at all.

"Match detected," said Tenn's computer after four minutes of silence.

On the small but detailed screen were two images: one, the ring, in a scanned image read from its hook-up point, and the other—a massive, octagonal shield of grey and black metal, ornamented round the rim with pyramid-shaped black studs. On the face was a twisted metal symbol, a calligraphic interpretation of the Irken Military insignia. Between the stylized antennae, embedded in the rim, there was a knot of Tavis.

The computer zeroed in on the knot, and a green border flashed around both it and the image of the ring.

"Item," said the computer in its characterless monotone, "is identified as the _Vortalitia Scildknot."_

_"Vortalitia?"_ Professor Membrane repeated, tasting the word, intrigued. His eyes lit up. Ira turned when his friend had spoken, and the two exchanged a glance.

I saw Ira mouth a few words. It took me a second, but I realized what he had meant: _If Victor were here…_

The Professor shook his head. Ira moved across the room to stand next to him, and the computer continued.

"Forged in Irken Tavis during the First Blorchean Expansion War, designated to protect the Control Brains housed on then-Irken Empirical ally, Vort."

"What were you muttering?" Lex asked of Ira and the Professor. She must have caught the mention of her father's name.

The two looked back and forth a second time. The Professor cleared his throat. "Your father," he said to Lex, "is the historian among us, but he used to bore us with all sorts of Medieval nonsense. Etymologies were a strong suit."

"Believe me, he used to read me Medieval Latin poems as bedtime stories," Lex said, smiling somewhat.

"He toured us through the Tower of London once," the Professor went on, fondly, "and kept babbling about the roots of the word _fortress."_

_ "Fortalitia_ being one," added Ira.

Lex's green eyes went wide. I knew that her father was an admired scholar; she must have had the same thirst for knowledge. Everyone in our group did.

The SEC was comprised of such inquisitive people. To be human is to inquire, and then to seek, and then to know… and then to ask again. No matter the topic, be it linguistics or love.

My heart skipped.

Fragments.

"We're so connected," Lex marvelled, stepping closer to the computer screen. "Irkens and humans, we are so connected. Even our languages evolved together. This is fascinating."

"Fascinating won't blow up Brains," Red argued. "Is that ring gonna help or not?"

"Excuse me," Dib argued, "but I think any evidence of our similarities could be beneficial in our confrontation with the Brains on Irk. They've got to pose the biggest threat and challenge… I bet they know all of our similarities, and expect that we're oblivious, so I'll take fascinating as a weapon, thanks."

Red groaned. "Fine," he gave in. "So what's the plan?"

"Well," said Gaz, "this is the Talisman. We can go ahead with the plot to blow up the Station, can't we?"

"Well," said Tenn, "one thing's certain: you're gonna need a way more powerful laser than this thing's got."

"Too bad we can't get back to the _Massive," _Red griped.

"I'm sure you of all people would have memorized all the best places to procure powerful lasers in this Empire, though," Ira noted, blinking at Red.

Red's face flushed. He removed his glassed and cleared his throat, covering his mouth with one fist. He turned away from Ira, thus angling himself in a way that Gaz and I could see his expression more clearly. Red cleaned off his glasses with the edge of his shirt; the lenses had been foggy. More than the irises of his eyes looked red.

That was new. His eyes had watered, and still seemed misty. He must have been hiding that fact for a while.

He set his glasses back in place and walked over to Tenn. Setting his hands on the back of her pilot's seat, he glanced at the navigation system.

"We could," he said, "use one on Vort."

"Would it tamper with the orbit if we destroy a satellite from a base on its anchor planet?" Membrane asked warily.

Red shook his head, cast a glance back at Ira, who nodded, then proclaimed, "Not if we destroy all of the Stations at once. And free Vort."

We all held our breath.

"Look, we wanna be sending good messages, I want to be a better leader. We free Vort," Red repeated.

I had to admit, that was probably the best decision I had ever heard Red make. It was one that I could stand behind, especially still feeling some guilt for having lost control enough to allow the Commander to kill Lard Nar after the Resisty attack. Vort had been a research prison since Invader Larb conquered it, but the Empire and Vort were once on equal grounds. Yes, the enslavement of the race was recent, but such actions are not easily forgiven, if they are ever forgiven at all.

But we needed allies. And we needed resources, and we needed strength in numbers, especially if the Armada was soon to attack.

"That's the best idea I've heard today," I spoke up.

"Honestly, me, too," Dib agreed, giving Red an odd look. "You sure about that, Red?"

Red sighed. "It's what needs to be done," he proclaimed. "I want to do this. We need to destroy these Brains, and I, at least, need to get a better reputation. Nobody likes the Empire."

"No kidding," Tenn said under her breath.

"Look, I've made mistakes," said the Tallest. "I've made a ton of fucking mistakes. But now I want to make up for them. I'm going to be leading a changed Empire, and I want that change to be met with as little retaliation as possible, if the Empire's going to accept it at all.

"We need what those prisoners have, and what they can do," he continued, "and I owe them their freedom."

Ira did not hide his proud grin.

The Tallest really was learning, along with the rest of us.

Dib clapped his hands together and said, "Well, there we go."

"That's the plan?" Gaz asked.

"Yep. Let's do it," Dib said. "Red, it'll be just you and me going to Vort. Gaz, you and Zim break that thing when I give the word. I don't want any chance of a counter-attack. Tenn, Skutch, you guys stand by, and get everyone out of here if things look bad. Got it?"

I did not want to think of anything that _could _go wrong, but Gaz and I nodded with the others.

"New regime starts today," Dib said strongly. "Let's go free Planet Vort."

_And then, _his expression read, _save the Earth._

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**Author's Note:**

Hi again! I'm not sure why, but I kept on getting error screens again when trying to respond to the comments from the previous chapter... terribly sorry about the lack of responses if they didn't go through! But I do want to say a huge thank you to everyone who read and reviewed; I was nervous posting again after such a long time, and it's so great to see that you've all kept with this story... thankyouthankyou! I may be down to posting once a month, but it's going to be a steady flow till the end~ :3

Thanks again for reading! Hopefully my comment responses can go through this time, ahhhh ^^;;; See you with chapter 13 soon.

~Jizena~

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